(( A.N. : Hello everyone! This is my very first fanfiction posted onto even though I have made many more in the past. This chapter's a bit short and may or may not be tad bit confusing but all will be cleared up in Chapter 2! :3 I would highly appreciate any suggestions or reviews you have for me! Also, I read all the rules but if there's something I did wrong please don't hesitate to tell me ;_; I really don't want to get in trouble! Thanks everyone, enjoy the story~ ))

Present day

This marks our two year anniversary,
Misaki.

Does it please you that I'm gone,
Misaki?
I worry about you so often,
Misaki.
But everything will be ok…
Won't it be?
Misaki?

Lieutenant Awashima would surely kick his ass into next week if she found him here, but Fushimi was hardly worried over such a trivial thing. Those papers can be filed themselves for all he really cared. After all, nothing else pissed him off more than boring offices… Except seeing his precious Misaki mingle around with HOMRA as though they were some goddamn family. Anyone with a single pair of eyes can see the illusion they had put up for themselves, for it was quite obvious they were no better than a gang of hoodlums.

December nights were always so cruel and merciless in Shizume city, its frosty zephyrs nipping the bare cheeks of those who remain outside. Signs of snow were so eagerly promised by the dark black and grey clouds from above, but not even a single flake of snow had yet to fall from the limitless sky. They had lied.

Sitting as quiet and still as death, Fushimi stared endlessly into the depths of the untrustworthy clouds as though he were searching frantically for the answer to everything. The atmosphere within Scepter 4 was suffocating, but it was no better outside for the frigid temperatures stung his dry throat terribly. Oh… But what did that matter, anyways? All that was ever on his mind was Misaki. Oh, how he so loved and loathed that boy. That name would forever chain him down with its fetters of hate, dragging him into the depths of isolation from reality like an iron anchor dropped into an ocean. His knees had been pulled into his chest, sitting still so that he wouldn't fall from the clock tower that was centered perfectly on top of the Scepter 4 HQ building. Silence was all he needed, along with his scattered thoughts that resembled the puzzle pieces that Captain Munakata enjoyed solving on his spare time.

Had it really been two years since that fateful day? Closing his metallic blue eyes, a passing wind howled into his ears and forced his hair to dance to its swaying currents before leaving just as quickly as it arrived.

Misaki was but an unhealthy obsession, and addiction that he couldn't stop. No matter when Fushimi fell asleep, all he could see and remember was that heart-wrenching face Misaki made.

Pressing his flaming fingers against his HOMRA insignia, witnessing the twisted look of pain grow on his precious Misaki's face.

Watching Misaki grow such inconsequential friendships with those red-flamed thugs, throw into the corner like an overused toy.

Witnessing that cursed, fucking bottle be caught and melted by Mikoto, catching every bit of Yata's attention like a fishing line catching unsuspecting prey— Thinking about the past sent uncomfortable itching sensations crawling over his charred insignia, causing him to lift his hand, out of pure habit, and viciously scratch at that singed area of skin. The things he did for Misaki, the scars that never correctly healed ever since that day. Scratching… and scratching… and scratching, tearing flesh and

Two years ago

"S-Saru… You're not serious, right?! What the fuck do you mean?!"

"Keh… Misaki, weren't you paying attention? I said I joined Scepter 4, simple as that~"

"Wh… YOU BASTARD! Why would you betray HOMRA like this?! Why would you betray me like this?! Mikoto-san took us off the streets, blessed us with our aura, and placed a mark of our pride on us!" Yata growled, his fist bumping into Fushimi's chest right where his HOMRA insignia rested, half hidden, "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US?!"

Oh, how adorable he looked back then. With his chestnut-colored hair untamed and wild like his spirit, hazel eyes glinting red with fury, and his rounded face lined angrily with coral-colored lips drawn back like a threatened animal. Resting in the silence for a few more minutes, Fushimi let out a demented and twisted laugh that rang eerily through the silence. Fushimi's velvety voice sliced the air like knife through butter, eyes of blue tainted by the shadows that loomed over him. Blinded by what was in front of him, Fushimi lit the fingers on his left hand without another word. And in that instant, Yata quickly pulled back and watched through agonized silence the flesh of Fushimi's chest become burned by the flames of his own little hell.

But that look in his pained eyes, grief. At that exact moment, it seemed as though he'd lost Fushimi forever. But Fushimi refused to see it, to even notice what he had created inside Yata: That burning hatred… Yes, the one that would fuel him forever.

"S-Saru… I swear on my life… I WILL KILL YOU!"

Silly Misaki... You should know by now that it's impossible to kill someone who's already dead...

The sudden jump-start of excruciating pain meant that he had broken through the epidermis of his skin. Looking down at his fingers, blood dripped ever so slowly like honey and onto the roof. Chuckling under his breath, Fushimi swiped his tongue over his fingers and tasted the bitter iron of his blood. When would this stop? Was this sorrow not enough? Letting his hand fall back down to his side, Saru slowly looked up and noticed the sky become darker signaling the hidden sun had fallen to begin the night. Not a single ray of moonlight or a flicker of stars could be seen, but he knew they were there. So long as he could feel their presence, his presence, everything would be ok.

But it wasn't enough.

Looking around, making sure no one was able to witness what he was about to do, Fushimi slowly closed his eyes and tilted his head up back towards the sky…

I wish that Misaki hadn't thrown that bottle at Mikoto and never joined HOMRA, so that we can be together forever…

Nothing, but that's to be expected right? Wishes granted from stars don't even exist. Ridiculing his brief moment of impracticality, Fushimi leaned his black haired head onto the concrete behind him and slowly closed his eyes once more. Facts are facts, Misaki hated his guts. Nothing he could say or do would ever change that permanent fact. Fushimi had given up all hope on being Misaki's friend, and was certainly way in over his head if he even remotely dreamed of being able to cradle Misaki close to his bare chest, kiss those constantly chapped lips of his, and label him as 'Mine'.

"… My… Mi..Sa..Ki..."

In a sudden, unexpected flash, a bright light had broken through the thick clouds and seeped through like a waterfall of shining hope. Bleeding through the darkness and painting its path in pure white, tinier shards began to push the clouds and overwhelm the sky with its intensity.

"Wh— What's going on?!" Fushimi gasped, scrambling up to his feet with a gasp as it's irresistible luminosity engulfed his whole body and spirited him away as though he were taken away by the hands of god himself.

Let's start over, Misaki.

Wipe away the ashes of yesterday, burn a love much greater than the last.