I died a little bit at the end of episode 8... so yeah, I'm just going to leave this here...
*Spoiler warnings for Episode 8 of Return of Kings*
"If you're bailing now, I'm resigning."
"Fine, resign. If you have an issue with me, then go."
"Tch"
Momentary Silence. Saruhiko quickly contemplated his options.
"You're a traitor at heart anyway."
He gasped and stepped back, as though physically struck.
"That's the kind of person you've always been. You don't get your way so you throw a tantrum and leave."
He remained rooted to the spot, utterly speechless. He knew he'd overstepped his bounds, but he hadn't expected this in response.
Yet the blue king ruthlessly continued. "It's why you could never commit yourself to one king. But at the same time, you couldn't relinquish the influence of the slates. So you wander around, stuck in your own little world."
The blues behind him didn't dare breathe.
"Pathetic," Munakata callously spat.
Again, the force of the blue king's words winded him. He made a quick, swift decision, ripped his saber out of its holster drawing a loud rasp from the group of blues behind him, and slammed it into the joint of the van and threw his blazer over it.
With a sharp intake of breath and less than a split second's hesitation, he clenched his fists, turned on his heel and stormed away.
"Fushimi-san!" Akiyama called after him. "Captain! Is this ok?!"
"Let him go," Munakata said sadistically. It wasn't the blue king's words that stung; it was how he said it. It was as though he was expecting this all along, and he was revelling in amusement at the fact that he'd been right, and Saruhiko had fallen down his low and predictable path after all.
"Fushimi?"
Misaki pulled himself out of a sleepy daze at the sound of the name. He looked up at Kusanagi.
"Yata? Have you been in contact with Fushimi?"
"Eh? Is that a joke? Of course I haven't." Misaki shot back.
"Ah," Kusanagi replied casually. "It seems that he walked out on SEPTER 4 after some kind of argument broke out. No one has heard from him since."
That was all he needed. Misaki was gone, skateboard and bat in tote.
Saruhiko let out a deep sigh he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. Seeing his breath catch on the air, he pulled his jacket tighter around him before burying his fists deep in his pockets. The sun had taken any warmth of the day with it, leaving in its wake a dark, crisp, frosty evening.
He had calmed down considerably, but the seriousness of what he'd done had not left him at all. He could feel the relentless tension in his shoulders, and he kept having to consciously relax his jaw.
He was pacing around a park, wandering as he had done since he'd walked away from that van, and by extension, his clan. He wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself now. The fact that he had nowhere to go wasn't what bothered him. It wouldn't be the first time he had to fend for himself. He was more concerned with what move he was going to make next.
Along with the utter rage he'd felt towards the blue king, listening to the amusement and almost delight in his voice, he'd had one other thought that was overwhelming the rest.
You're a traitor at heart anyway.
The words continued to ring through his mind. It wasn't like him to feel this kind of emotional pain. And this angered him almost more than it upset him.
For so long now he'd had everything worked out. He went to work, he did his job, he felt like he had a purpose, and despite any unexpected events at work, nothing caught him off guard in his personal life. He'd been content and in control.
Until now.
And it was all the blue king's fault.
Deep down, he knew the most effective way to get back at Munakata Reisi.
He'd lost count how many times he'd pulled out his phone and scared at the green glow on the screen.
The reds were a gang full of street thugs and misfits, previously lead by the violent and unstable Mikoto Suoh. The blues were group of insecure individuals with a misguided sense of justice, structure and organization with self justified, overconfident Munakata Reisi at their helm. Maybe the Greens had it figured out. They were obviously doing something right… and Hisui Nagare wanted to unleash the powers of the slates…
It's why you could never commit yourself to one king.
He seethed in anger, clenching his fists, feeling his fingernails biting into the soft flesh of his palms.
"Making me look like the bad guy," he said quietly to himself. "How can a leader expect to be followed when he refuses to lead?"
Isana Yashiro will figure something out.
Yet he was the one calling me pathetic. Leaning on some kid, some 'immortal' king. Munakata was the one chosen to succeed the gold king in the protection of the slates. Yet all he did was sit on top of that building making himself feel important.
"You'll meet the same fate as the red king, your old buddy," Saruhiko snickered to himself. His sword was already proof of that. It was only a matter of time.
And then there was Isana Yashiro… another king who thought he had it all figured out. It's like these God given powers made them all perfect and invincible.
Tch. Not invincible, clearly.
If Nagare succeeded in unlocking the power of the slates, the kings would cease to exist… right? Or would it be Nagare and Iwafune Tenke who ruled the world?
Once again, he watched his breath as he sighed, staring up at the dark, clear sky.
He felt a shiver wrack his body. Damnit, if only it wasn't so damn cold.
"Dad! Dad, come on! Hurry!" a young voice shouted from several meters away.
Saruhiko turned his head, seeing the child race along the path, a green balloon clenched in his hand.
The father, upon seeing Saruhiko in the distance, hurried to catch up to his child. "Slow down, Thomas!"
"But Mommy's waiting! And so is Maya! And we're gonna build a fire! And have hot pot!" The child exclaimed, as though he was anticipating a miraculous birthday gift.
"I know, but they wouldn't want you to fall and hurt yourself on the way home. Who is going to crumple the paper if you get hurt?" The father said as he grasped his son's hand. He nodded to Saruhiko as the pair passed him.
"Mm," He responded, caught by surprise, but nodding back.
Something about the child's words and his excitement seemed to ground Saruhiko. For the kid to be so excited about seeing his family and enjoying a meal with them. It had been so long since he had concerned himself with something as that. It was always about order and completing the mission. And he liked it that way.
But now all that was gone. And he needed to get past that.
He snorted to himself. How useless, he thought to himself, pulling his phone out, his glasses illuminated by the green glow once more.
"There you are," a familiar voice said.
His first conscious thought was Akiyama or Awashima, but the voice was distinctively male, and definitely not owned by anyone possessing blue aura.
And there, leaning against a telephone pole not 4 meters away stood Yata Misaki. Skateboard and baseball bat in hand.
No wonder Saruhiko had not seen him, the entire back side was dark, while the front was lit up by the above street light.
"Tch. Now that everyone's all buddy buddy, word travels fast," Saruhiko said, taking a seat on the nearby bench, crossing his legs. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't expecting this.
"You know how Kusanagi and Awashima are. I would have heard regardless," Misaki said, approaching the bench. His tone was oddly calm with no trace of bitterness. That was odd for Misaki.
"What do you want," Saruhiko said, a hint of annoyance in his own voice. He wasn't sure he had the energy to deal with him right now.
"What happened?" Misaki demanded, the confidence in his voice completely uncharacteristic for the insecure red head.
"Tch, didn't you hear? Hasn't everyone heard?"
"All I heard was that you got in some kind of argument. If I had to guess, I'd say you said something offensive to your king," Misaki said.
Saruhiko chuckled to himself. Of course Misaki had figured out what happened. If it were possible for someone to predict his behavior, it would be Misaki. It was part of the reason that leaving the Reds had been so satisfying. Misaki had never seen it coming. As if he could have seen anything at the time other than Mikoto.
"So you did then. And the blues didn't slaughter you on the spot?"
"Yeah right. Those idiots will lick their own boots if they're told. Until someone draws them a picture and tells them to get out of the fire, they won't even do that."
"So Munakata-san let you go."
Saruhiko was growing bored with this game. "Why are you here?" He said, regretting the lack of animosity in his voice. He was mentally exhausted, and the last thing he wanted was for Misaki to think he wanted anything to do with him. He decided to change the subject.
"What are the allies planning now? Who is planning the battles now that Isana Yashiro has failed and Munakata is hiding in a cave licking his wounds? Don't tell me it's Anna."
"Don't you say a word against my king!" Misaki barked back.
"Tch."
There was something seriously less satisfying about taunting Misaki about Anna. It had been so amusing watching him squirm when you mentioned Mikoto's name in vain. In all honesty, he could have nothing against the little girl aside from the fact that she too was a king not acting to her full potential to put a stop to the madness taking over.
"We don't know. Sounds like the blues are pretty rattled, and the silver king is keeping to himself right now, insisting he's doing research. That guy pisses me off. No self respecting man should bend over and take it up the ass the way he does."
Saruhiko didn't respond.
"Why did you walk out? So you called him a coward, then what?"
"Tch, I don't need to share this with you. If you came here for a cozy chit chat, you should know by now that you're wasting your breath. I don't have time for this."
"Really? You have somewhere to be?" Misaki taunted, once again, his words sounding far too self-assured.
But he was right.
Saruhiko sighed, hugging himself against the cold.
"This whole alliance idea, following the orders of another king who barely has his own clan, was a joke.
"It was worth a try," Misaki insisted.
"Yeah? Was it?" Saruhiko said, tiredly.
"Well you guys weren't getting anywhere on your own, were you?"
"We were - " Saruhiko began, but then he sat, back, sighed, and changed his mind. It wasn't worth defending the blue clan anymore.
"What is wrong with you, Saru? You can't even argue with me," Misaki said, he sounded annoyed, but also a bit worried.
"What do you want me to say? Munakata got his ass handed to him. I'm not going to try to defend him. Can you just get out of my face? Why did you come here in the first place?"
"Do you really not know?" Misaki asked quietly, his voice sounding more calmly genuine than Saruhiko had heard in years.
"Tch. Probably some stupid sentiment like you were worried or something." Saruhiko said, closing his eyes and pushing his glasses up his nose. He quickly buried his hand back in his jacket.
"What are you going to do?" Misaki asked, clearly the question he'd been waiting to get out.
"That isn't your problem or your business," Saruhiko said, standing up. He needed to walk. He was warmer when he was moving. "Maybe I'll go join the Greens," he said in a comical voice. It was worth it just to see how Misaki would respond.
As expected, Misaki gasped and jumped to his feet.
But something stirred in the trees behind them.
"He's here."
"We found him."
"Someone is with him."
"It's Yatagarasu of HOMRA."
"What?" Misaki said, stepping around Saruhiko to see where the voices were coming from.
There was a pang of metal, and Saruhiko realized what was coming.
"Shit!" He said loudly, grabbing Misaki's collar and dragging him to the ground, narrowly avoiding the flash of blue flying towards them.
"What the – " Misaki cried, obviously having not figured out what was going on. "The blues?"
"Stay out of the way!" Saruhiko said, shoving Misaki aside.
"What are you going to do? Throw your glasses at them? Get out of my way!" Misaki demanded, stepping back in front of Saruhiko.
Damnit, he cursed. Misaki was right. He felt useless without his sword. All he had were his knives, and he wasn't sure even they would work properly.
Sure he'd held onto the Red aura after leaving Mikoto, but he was always convinced Mikoto simply didn't care enough to revoke it. He was certain that Munakata would have removed his power, especially if he was sending his clansmen to eliminate him now.
The sound of swords being removed from their hilts, and another blast of blue. This one was much harder to avoid, he dove to the side, his glasses falling to the ground. He didn't know where Misaki was. It was too dark to see anything.
How many of them were there?
"Attack! We can't let him get away!"
Several attacks came flying at him at once. He threw two of his knives, knowing full well he wouldn't be getting them back, and dove once more, shielding himself ineffectively and waiting for the blow.
He heard the explosion, but it never came. He opened his eyes to find Misaki standing in front of him, his skateboard having taken the hit. The broken object was smoking.
"What the fuck is this?! Not 12 hours ago he was your clansman, and now you're attacking him!? Fucking Blues!"
"We have order to attack!" One of them shouted.
"No shit!" Misaki shouted back, sending a wave of Red aura in their direction. "You morons are a police force, why aren't you arresting him?!"
"Orders are orders. He knows too much about us to just let him walk away!" One of them said.
Saruhiko turned in their direction, but all he could see through his blurry vision was that there were at least 6 or 7 of them. He had expected something from the blues, but not a death warrant.
"You have an alliance with the Red clan, are you sure you want to risk that by attacking me here?" Misaki shouted.
Another wave of blue, and the sound of metal met wood.
"I guess so," Misaki said quietly. "So be it." He glanced down at Saruhiko, dropped his bat at his feet and dove into action.
Saruhiko frantically searched the grass and recovered his glasses. As much as he didn't care to protect Misaki, he couldn't just let him go in there alone on his behalf. Vision restored, he picked up the bat and chased after Misaki, his legs protesting against the cold and his lack of energy.
Bright blue swords were flying, chasing the red ball of fire that was Misaki. Saruhiko charged in, swinging the bat wildly and making brutal contact with the side of someone's head. Whoever it was fell immediately.
"Eh?" A blue clansmen spotted him, "It's Fushimi-san! Over here!"
Saruhiko quickly silenced the second one, only to be knocked sideways by a blast of blue.
Swords were flying, blue clashed with red, and while his lack of colour helped him to hide, Saruhiko felt horribly outmatched. He wasn't bad with the bat, but he was really no match for the blue flames.
His bat met metal as he clashed with a glowing sword. Saruhiko swung, but sword hit bone, and his left arm exploded in pain as he felt warm blood gush from the limb. He felt the hilt hit his head and he crumpled to the ground. Metal found flesh once more, and the blade pierced his abdomen.
"SARU!" Misaki wailed, his aura brighter than ever as he flew forward, taking out the blue who didn't even know what hit him.
"Get up we have to get out of here!" Misaki shouted, dragging Saruhiko to his feet.
Misaki continued to throw bursts or red flame, and the blues did not pursue as the pair darted for the far end of the park.
Gasping for air, they fell the ground at the edge of the playground. There was enough light to illuminate the area, but not give away their position.
"What the fuck!" Misaki said loudly.
"Shut up," Saruhiko panted. The pain was horrible. "Do you want them to hear you?"
"I can't believe they tried to kill you!" He said, no quieter.
"I can't believe you tried to fight them," Saruhiko replied, hearing his voice falling, cradling his bleeding arm against his stomach. He knew he was losing blood fast, but maybe it was better that way. The blue king would have his way after all. He laid back against the grass.
"Saru? Saru what's wrong?!" Misaki's aura flared harmlessly and his eyes found the wound. Panic wove its way across his face and he jumped to his feet.
"Idiot! You're bleeding! A lot!"
"Good observation," he replied through forced breaths. He felt relaxed, almost light headed, and he was no longer cold, and the pain was fading away.
Misaki began tearing pieces of his oversized shirt and tying them off around Saruhiko's arm, pressing the remainder of his sweater into his abdomen. "You need to get to a hospital."
"I don't think it's going to matter," Saruhiko said, smiling. He'd lost all conviction he'd originally had. He didn't feel like arguing. He didn't even feel like contradicting his former friend.
He knew the end was coming.
And yet somehow, he was ok with it.
"DON'T YOU DARE, YOU STUPID IDIOT! I SWEAR TO GOD!" Misaki was frantic, his face was white and eyes were filled with tears.
"GET UP!" He cried, dragging Saruhiko to his feet.
Saruhiko allowed Misaki to pull him up, but he could hardly balance. He swayed from side to side as he heard Misaki shouting and crying into his phone. Everything was a blur.
"Please! Hurry up you have to get here now! He's dying!" His screams were turning to sobs.
"SARU! I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU IF YOU DIE ON ME!" He could tell Misaki was yelling, but he could hardly hear him. It was if he was standing at the other end of a tunnel.
"DON'T YOU DARE DIE! SARU!"
Stupid Misaki. Always wanting what he couldn't have.
If this was dying, it felt oddly familiar. There were bright white lights, and nothing else. There was no sound and no smell. He attempted to move his head, and it was only when the pain wash over him that he realized there was no way he could be dead.
He cracked his eyes open, and was blinded by the light. He quickly closed them tightly again.
"Well hey there," came a voice. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't remember who it belonged to.
"Saru!?" A second voice, the owner of which was much more obvious. Only one person called him that.
Saruhiko groaned, shifting around on what felt like a bed, and a very uncomfortable one at that. He tried to open his eyes once more, this time he managed to bear the painfully bright light, but the shapes in front of him were blurry.
"Your glasses are here," came the first voice.
Gentle hands found his face, and he felt his glasses slide up his nose and into place. He attempted to lift his left arm, but it ached and protested against him.
Finally he settled for not moving, and simply opened his eyes and allowed them to focus. The right lens was badly scratched, but he could see through the left side.
"I'll leave you to it then," said the first voice, and Saruhiko's eyes found Kusanagi as he walked out of the room.
"You fucking idiot!" Came the other voice from his left.
He turned his head to find a distraught Misaki, wiping tears from his eyes.
"You're such a crybaby, Misaki." Saruhiko replied, his voice hoarse and his throat dry.
"Don't call me that! I would smack you if you weren't such a mess."
Saruhiko forced a smile. He knew it was true.
He cleared his throat. "Never thought I'd be back here again," he glanced around the room. It was the upstairs pad above the bar that he and Misaki had shared so many months ago.
With some difficulty, he forced himself into an upright position atop a pile of pillows. His stomach ached where he had been stabbed, and he found his left arm not only throbbed, but his hand wouldn't respond to his conscious orders to move. He wondered if the effects would be permanent when the bandages came off.
"Kusanagi said we got to you just in time. You lost so much fucking blood I don't know how you survived."
"Tch," he clicked his tongue weakly.
"You were ready to die, weren't you," Misaki said, tears obviously threatening again.
"I guess I was," Saruhiko responded. It must have been the blood loss. He saw no other reason that he should be sharing, or even speaking to Misaki.
"Why?" Misaki asked, losing control again, and sobbing into his sleeve.
"Why do you care so much? I betrayed you, remember?"
"I don't care. You were like my brother. It's not as if I could just watch you die in my arms without feeling anything," Misaki said, his voice trembling.
It made him wonder. Had it been Misaki nearly bleeding to death in his arms, how would he have felt? If he was honest with himself, he'd never hated Misaki. He'd hated how Misaki had changed, had obsessed over the Red clan and over Mikoto, but it had never gone as far as personal loathing. He'd even taken extreme pleasure in fighting with him. He'd wanted to make Misaki hurt; to make him feel pain like he'd felt himself. The way he had crushed Misaki when he'd left HOMRA had been so incredibly satisfying.
But would I really be able to watch him die? He asked himself. Probably not.
"Tch. You're too emotional, Misaki," Saruhiko said, looking away.
"Will you fucking stop it?!" Misaki shouted.
Caught completely off guard, Saruhiko instinctively turned his head toward Misaki.
"Will you stop fucking telling me I'm acting childish or being too damn emotional and have a real fucking conversation with me? You're so afraid of your own damn feelings that you turn everything into a game, into something laughable. You always have to be a step ahead, so you can't get knocked on your ass; so you can't lose. The blue king pissed you off, so you one-upped him and walked away. Just like I did something to hurt you ages ago, and you fucking walked away from me. You always have to fucking win, Saruhiko. Well what the fuck have you won this time? You have no one! And you almost lost your fucking life! Let your fucking pride go already!"
For the second time in 24 hours, Saruhiko felt like he'd been punched straight through the chest.
It hurt to breathe.
His first instinct was to laugh it off, to tell Misaki he was completely deluded. But somehow, the words wouldn't come.
He knew Misaki was bang on. And he hadn't anticipated it. Misaki was the sentimental type, the kind of person who wore his heart on his sleeve and let his emotions run wild. He would have never expected him to be able to nail down the deepest parts of his own soul so easily.
He could see Misaki's shoulders heaving, the intensity in his words still wracking his body.
"Look, I'm sorry Saruhiko. That was out of line. You should get some rest." Misaki said awkwardly, his voice sounding unnaturally composed.
Saruhiko sighed. What did he have left? Was there an ounce of pride still worth protecting?
"You're right," he said quietly, hearing the candidness in his own voice. It sickened him a little bit.
"Eh?" Misaki said, jerking his head towards Saruhiko.
"You are right," Saruhiko said, enunciating each word.
"What?"
"You're bang on! Do you want me to say it a few more times?"
"I heard you… but… What – "
Saruhiko had never seen Misaki look so taken aback before. Except perhaps the day he had informed him he had joined SCEPTER 4.
"I thought I could run away… from the pain," Saruhiko said. "I knew I never really had a place with the Reds, so I ran away. I could feel myself losing you, so rather than completely let you slip away, I left of my own accord."
"What are you saying?"
But Saruhiko ignored him.
"I joined the blues, where I felt useful. I never fit in there either, but at least I had a purpose. I had a sense of self worth. Then even that started to slip away, and I could feel the threat of losing again. So I left again. I'm so tired of feeling things, and I do everything I can to avoid it, but even worse, I'm tired of running."
"So stop," Misaki interrupted.
"What?"
"Stop running. Shit happens. Problems happen, people die… bad things happen to everyone, and everyone feels pain."
"I'm completely numb to it."
"I know you are! It's because you refuse to really feel anything."
"I don't know what to do," Saruhiko said, hearing the desperation in his own voice finally unleashed.
"Come back to us," Misaki said, determination heavy in his words.
Saruhiko didn't speak. He looked at Misaki, then shifted his gaze back to his lap. "Why would you forgive me? How could you let everything I've done go?"
"Because it doesn't matter. Everything that happened is behind us."
"And you would risk it happening all over again?"
Misaki swallowed a gulp of air. He clearly hadn't been expecting that. "Well, if it does, hopefully whatever happens next will be worth it."
"You're so naïve, Misaki."
"Don't call me that, idiot." But as he said it, a smile formed across his face.
A smile that, for the first time in what felt like forever, was returned.
Well... it's been about a year and a half since I did an serious writing, so I apologize if this is horribly rough and full of errors. I needed to get it done before the next episode aired... otherwise it would feel oh-so-silly to post.
For anyone who knows me as a writer... I often associate my writing with a song that has provided some kind of inspiration.
My song for this story is The Leaving Song by AFI. I feel like it just embodies Saruhiko so well, especially after walking away from his second clan. Anyway, you be the judge.
Walked away, heard them say
"Poison hearts will never change, walk away again"
Turned away in disgrace
Felt the chill upon my face cooling from within
It's hard to notice gleaming from the sky
When you're staring at the cracks
It's hard to notice what is passing by with eyes lowered
You... walked away, heard them say
"Poisoned hearts will never change, walk away again"
All the cracks, they lead right to me
And all the cracks will crawl right through me
All the cracks, they lead right to me
And all the cracks will crawl right through me, and I fell apart
As I... walked away, heard them say
"Poisoned hearts will never change"
Walked away again
Turned away in disgrace
Felt the chill upon my face cooling from within
Well, I hope this amused you for 20 minutes or so. Thanks for reading!