That day a girl came into the bar. Yata, Misaki was the guard on duty. Rather, the bar Homra did not actually have a guard, but with no one else around to protect the small child who lived upstairs, Yata preferred to think of himself as a guard over a baby-sitter. Anna was precious to all of them.
This girl was not someone who Yata recognized. It was not Awashima, Seri, the Lieutenant of Homra's rivals Scepter 4, who sometimes came to enjoy a cocktail at the bar. Neither was it Anna's aunt Honami who used to come by on occasion. She was younger than either of those women, too young to step through the front door of a bar in a bad neighborhood. Peachy, was the first word to come to the teenage boy in order to describe her appearance. From the slight flush of pink on her fair skin, to the shade of her hair that lay gently on her shoulders, the girl was the colors of a peach.
Yata's imagination even went as far as to think she seemed soft and sweet like such a fruit. By the time he realized that was an awkward comparison, he had been staring at her in silence already for a while. She shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, expressing subtly that the young miss was not at ease with the setting or the welcome she received. Instantly, Yata's mind began to race, searching for the right words to improve the situation.
He thought back to what he had heard the bar's owner—Kusanagi, Izumo—say numerous times when customers came in. That man had a way of talking to ladies that put them at ease right away. On one occasion he had forced Yata and some of the other members of Homra to wait on clients as some sort of compensation for the trouble they caused. Now, as the sole guardian present, Yata wished an enemy had come instead of a girl. What had Kusanagi-san taught them in training that time, anyways? He could hardly recall the words, much less repeat them.
When his hands started to feel clammy, he balled them into fists to restore his determination. This was only becoming more awkward. Whoever this girl was, Kusanagi would be upset if he chased her off by acting weird. Deciding he should at least welcome her, the boy bowed low and tried to speak. The first sound to come out of his mouth more closely resembled a croak than a word. Heat rushed to his face in embarrassment so strongly that Yata himself could tell he had turned bright red.
Eyes to the floor, he tried not to look at the girl as sweat broke out on his brow. "I—i—ira—irassh," he stumbled helplessly over the phrase.
Before he could finish the greeting, 'Irasshaimase,' a child came down the stairs into the main room. It was impossible to tell if Anna had known about their visitor previously or not. Her face would show neither prior knowledge nor surprise. Yata did not even notice her presence as she silently crossed the bar to look up at the newcomer.
Tilting her head to the side, Anna blinked twice and then asked, "Do you want something?" The words came out sounding icy and a little lifeless. It certainly was a far cry from impeccable customer service. Still, somehow the young lady in the doorway understood that their intentions were kind.
She put her hands on her knees to lean closer to Anna's height when she answered, "I was hoping to find Totsuka-san. Do you know him?"
"Totsuka-san," Yata repeated, unnoticed, in the background. Her voice was as gentle as he guessed it would be. He could easily picture her standing next to the boy she came to see. Totsuka, Tatara was very much like her in many ways, at least at first glance. Is she his sister? Yata wondered, but he immediately corrected himself. If that were the case, she wouldn't call him by his last name. Then, how was it he had never told anyone about knowing her?
Anna's response was equally as cold as the last, "He went shopping." At that, she walked off, leaving no room for further questions. For that reason, the visitor once again turned all of her attention to Yata, who seemed startled that her eyes fell back to him.
"Will Totsuka-san be back soon?" She wondered pleasantly.
"Yes, Ma'am," Yata snapped in reply instantly. After considering what she had actually asked, though, he continued with far less confidence, "Maybe…I'm not sure."
Another tense silence followed while they each tried to estimate how long Totsuka would be gone. In a panic, Yata blurted out, "Would you like to take a seat?" He had felt they would all be more comfortable with the situation if she wasn't standing awkwardly in the doorway. As he watched her accept his shouted offer with a smile and move toward the sofa along the side wall, however, he realized that would only prolong their dysfunctional encounter. She lightly brushed aside the skirt of her sundress and settled in across from where Anna had sat down with a set of red marbles. The visitor would assume she was playing with them, but the child was most likely trying to locate Totsuka in order to accurately calculate his arrival time.
The air in the bar hung more heavily than usual, which was saying a lot for a typically smoky environment. Yata could feel it weighing him down with the anxiety and regret over being the only person to take care of things at the bar. When Totsuka and Kusanagi had left earlier, the latter had asked if he could handle the responsibility alone.
Confidently, Yata had replied, "I can defeat anyone who dares step foot on Homra's territory!"
Kusanagi had looked at him then like that was an unreasonable answer, but Totsuka had brushed away his concern, reminding, "Don't worry. We'll be back before business hours start."
Thinking back on that conversation, Yata decided he understood what they meant as the minutes dragged by like hours. Hot, he pulled the beanie hat from his head, revealing his flattened, burnt orange head of hair. On the other hand, the slowly passing time didn't seem so stressful for the young lady. She was out of place still, but relatively content simply to watch the doll-like child play with her marbles in waiting.
Forever came and went before the front door of the bar opened again with the jingle of a small bell and the announcement, "Tadaima!" The one to come in was a tall, slender man with long, blond hair, surrounded by an obvious bishounen aura. It was not the person they were waiting for. He glanced around the room and then approached the counter Yata had been hiding behind for the last 20 minutes.
Peeking curiously over the counter to see who had come in, the shorter boy cried so desperately it was obnoxious, "Kamamoto!"
"Who's she?" Kamamoto inquired, nodding his head in the direction of the young lady with a sickeningly sparkling smile.
Slamming a hand down on the counter, Yata grabbed Kamamoto's shirt in the other and pulled him into the safety of his hiding place. Immediately, he began questioning his newly arrived friend, "Who's she?"
"I just asked you that," the blond replied, slightly put off.
Yata's voice was a whisper as they consulted, crouching behind the bar, "She came to see Totsuka-san. She's just sitting there. I don't know what to do."
In order to get a better look at the scene he hadn't fully analyzed originally, Kamamoto dared brave glancing out at the girl, acting like it was as risky as a war zone. Seeing the bored look on her sweet face and the complete lack of service rendered her, the man thought he had a full grasp on the situation. He likely also had a solution.
Ducking back into their fortress, Kamamoto asked, "Did you try serving her?"
"Serving her what?" Yata demanded, frustration in his voice showing that his first impression of the word was to be a slave.
"A drink," Kamamoto suggested like it was obvious.
In shock, Yata replied far too loudly, "She's underage!"
Hushing him with a series of hisses, the blond assured, "Not alcohol, Yata-san. Watch." At that, he stood to his feet, taking a menu from a drawer, and approached the lady.
"Welcome to Homra," he began, bowing with his polite greeting. "My name is Kamamoto, Rizio. May I ask yours?"
"Haruna, Emi," the girl responded, saying no more or no less than she was asked. Even so, the expression on her face clearly said she enjoyed his approach better than Yata's.
Kamamoto extended the menu out to her, continuing apologetically, "We realize, as this is a bar, there may not be a lot that appeals to you here, but we hope to do everything possible to make your wait more pleasant."
"Thank you," she replied. After taking a moment to look over the options, she made her request in a small, tender voice that could not be heard from across the room. Having taken down the notes of her order, Kamamoto returned to the bar to grab her a soda and handed the name of the meal to Yata—who at least had the courage to stand up to watch.
Taking one look at the words written, the short boy shouted at his friend, "Eh? Who do you think I am, a five star chef? I don't know how to cook curried swordfish! Why do I have to cook it anyways? You cook it!" He shoved the piece of paper at Kamamoto's chest.
The taller boy just stepped away, having found where the glasses were and now searching for ice. "I'm busy," he excused. "Besides, you're a good cook."
"Fried rice!" Exponentially louder than his partner, Yata reminded, "I can make fried rice! Not this uppity—"
Carried away by the rising emotions, Kamamoto interrupted furiously, "That was not fried—"
A soft voice came from the other side of the bar, putting an end to their budding argument, "Fried rice is fine." Emi was looking over at them with a pleasant smile.
Realizing that they had been fighting in front of their female guest, both boys froze. In silence, Kamamoto continued to prepare the beverage while Yata—redder than their King's hair—turned around like a robot and began to search for cooking materials.
Emi, having seen Anna nearly smiled at the boys' antics, addressed the little girl. "Your brothers are funny," she stated with a tiny giggle.
For just a second, the child looked up from her marbles on the table between them. As if the fact were obvious, Anna corrected, "They aren't my brothers."
That quickly, she turned back to her game. Emi didn't understand the rules; she didn't even understand what made the glass balls roll in circles. The girl never touched them, yet they kept moving around. Thinking she might be able to start a conversation if the topic was something that interested Anna, she asked about the marbles.
"How do you play the game?"
"It's not a game," the child answered brusquely. Even sounding rude at first glance, somehow the blunt shut-down didn't seem offensive.
It takes about half an hour to make fried rice. Therefore, once Kamamoto delivered the lady her soda, the bar was once again reduced to silence while they waited for Yata to finish cooking. Once the sounds of sizzling began, another tall figure appeared at the base of the stairs with spiky, red hair and a leather jacket. He was preceded by an imposing vibe and glanced apathetically around the room. Taking notice of how everyone was unsettled, he directed a small, questioning grunt to the current chef.
Without waiting for the answer to his wordless inquiry, the oldest person in the bar lazily crossed the room and collapsed on the couch beside the youngest. He seemed mildly interested in who Anna was trying to find, looking over at her through one half-opened eye. Eventually, he stopped trying to figure it out and leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling.
"Mikoto-san," Kamamoto began, but he couldn't manage to say more than just their leader's name.
"Hmm?" The redhead responded, hardly moving at all from his sprawled position.
"Have you been here this whole time?"
Mikoto answered in the affirmative with a tiny, "Mm." Not that it would have made a difference. He clearly wouldn't have improved the uncomfortable atmosphere by coming down right away. Now, his visual display of careless confidence was unnerving the timid girl even more. Her eyes were wide open and her hands tucked tightly between her knees to keep them from shaking.
"You're scaring her," Kamamoto pointed out.
Lifting his head, Mikoto raised an eyebrow at Emi as if to take a deeper look at the unexpected visitor. After the second glance, he had the same impression of her as with the first. Because of Kamamoto's suggestion, however, he nodded, thinking that served as both a greeting and an introduction.
Emi swallowed hard. Totally overwhelmed, she stood, announcing, "I guess I'll come back later." Having tried to speak with determination, she was surprised that it came out sounding so uncertain. Becoming dizzy, her knees wobbled, and she sat back down with Kamamoto's help, held captive by Mikoto's powerful aura. She was barely able to express her gratitude to her waiter for catching her before she went completely faint.
In shock, Yata shouted from across the room, "Wha—? Look what you did now!" Kamamoto rapidly tried to fan her back to consciousness. This was a common effect had on people in the presence of the red king, but today it was different. Even Mikoto and Anna were moved enough to lean forward in their chairs when Yata finished, "What if Totsuka-san comes back right now and sees her that way?"
For the third time a bell jingled at the front door as another tall blond and an average looking young man entered the bar. "What if Totsuka-san comes right now and sees what?" The latter asked, referring to himself in the third person with his head tilted to the side.
A morbid fear of being in trouble came over Yata who knew he had messed up several times since the beginning. Kamamoto was also worried because of the current state of their visitor. That apprehensive feeling in the air carried all the way to the front door, catching the attention of the blond man, Kusanagi, the bar's owner.
Suspecting they had broken something valuable, he asked through narrowed eyes, "What happened here?"
Everyone remained silent, frozen, refusing to incriminate themselves—Yata with his hand on the spatula in the frying pan, Kamamoto mid-wave in the fanning process. Unsure where to start searching for the hidden problem, Totsuka walked towards the greater concentration of people. As he neared the couch shared by Mikoto and Anna, he was halted by a startling sight across from them.
"Emi-chan!" He exclaimed in surprise at the unconscious girl laying there. Then, looking back to Kusanagi, he wondered, "Are we that late?"
With a hint of curiosity, Mikoto looked up at one of his longest companions. "You know her?"
"Yes, I do," Totsuka answered. "I asked her to meet me here today."
"Hmm," the red king acknowledged the statement with only a short, humming noise like he was thinking of something.
Knowing there was more to be said than that, Totsuka smiled warmly and inquired in his seemingly harmless voice, "Why do you ask, King?"
Gruffly, Mikoto uttered, "Sorry." It took everyone by surprise, but they didn't have to probe to get an explanation. After a pause, he concluded, "For scaring her."
"It's all right," the boy she had been waiting for assured, appearing sincerely amused in a subtle way. "That happens to everyone at first, doesn't it? It means you impressed her."
I want to take a moment to thank everyone for reading this story. As always, I don't own any of the characters from K, but I really do enjoy seeing them back when they were happy. Don't worry; Totsuka will actually be in the next chapter! See you soon.
~Arait