Turn around, every now and then

I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by

"Mi…sa…kiii~"

Yata clenched his baseball bat harder than usual. Resisting the urge to kill, under the orders of Kusanagi, he knew he couldn't do anything to stop that one man from repeating his first name, like a psycho deranged killer. It hurt Yata more than anything else, having to face his former partner, in a battle of HOMRA vs SCEPTER4.

"SHUT UP YOU FUCKING MONKEY!"

"What do I have to do to ever have you pay full attention on me , Mi…. sa…. ki?" Fushimi replied the shorter boy, dragging on the last syllable of Yata's first name longer than usual. He then proceed to get ready into battle position, wielding his sword out. A blue aura surrounded Fushimi, ready in stance, wearing the signature SCEPTER4's blue uniform. He knew his heart belonged to neither the red clan or blue clan, yet he possesses the ability to use the power bestowed onto him, from his previous clan.

"Don't you remember why we joined HOMRA in the first place? Who was it that took us in, when we were left by the alleys, like abandoned pups, and gave us a place to call home, people to call family? Where's your sense of gratitude, you bastard!" Yata screamed at Fushimi, once his former best friend, and partner. He hid the pain beneath the deepest part of his heart, for so many years, for losing a dear friend was the most painful thing he could ever felt. Usually Yata would have tried to assault his former best friend anytime now, but he couldn't. It wasn't just because of Kusanagi's orders. He was trying his best to control his emotions, with tears threatening to come out anytime from his eyes.

"I don't want to fight with you today, although I really do feel like killing you now, but that's Izumo's order, I can't defy him" Yata turned away, heading to the direction where the Sword of Damocles engulfed with red flames, back to the leader, Mikoto.

I don't want to hurt you, its your birthday today. Remember all those times when you would have come knocking on my door, with my favourite comics, on your birthday? We would spend hours playing together and reading Superman comics, until your mum calls us back to your house to blow the birthday candles on your favourite were the best years we had together, but why did you have to betray me, betray us, our friendship? 15 years of friendship down the drain, just because of your whims. Did any of these mattered to you? Were they just fragments of memories, that possess no worth to you?

The redhead headed to the direction of his leader, using his skateboard , on full speed. As soon as Fushimi was out of his range, tears started to cover his eyes, eventually following gravity, down his cheeks. He couldn't bear to see Fushimi on his 20th birthday. Not with them threatening each other's clans, lives, and the things Yata yearned to protect. Mikoto, Anna, Izume, Tatara, and everyone else in HOMRA.

I can't do this. I miss you. I miss us. Those best years will never return. Nothing will be the same again. Farewell, my friend.

"DONT YOU DARE LEAVE JUST LIKE THAT. Fight me, or are you just another coward… mi..sa..ki?" Fushimi threw a dagger hidden in his sleeves at the skateboarded, which almost hit him. The latter didn't turn back, speeding up instead. Fushimi knew better that this meant his former friend would not respond to his challenge.

A tightening pain danced in his heart, the lonely feeling returning to haunt him. The swordsman ran his fingers across his chest, feeling the scars of the red clan mark once engraved onto him, years ago, by Mikoto. He scratched the mark, his finger tracing the lines of the claw-shaped scar formed when he tried to remove the HOMRA mark on his chest, in front of Yata, disbanding their friendship, years ago. Nothing can ever grab Misaki's full attention again, not with the members of the red clan being priority in Yata's life now.

I guess I will have to find another way for you to pay attention on me.

Feeling the vibration in his pocket, Fushimi checked his PDA, receiving a message from Munakata to retreat to base. He swiped to the main screen, to see the date. November 7. Of course he had forgotten his birthday, a now meaningless day to Saruhiko Fushimi, after he had left HOMRA years ago. Whatever, its just another stupid day, with a stupid job. So what am I now, 20 years old? Who the fuck cares, when the only one person who I actually care for, doesn't even bother to pay attention to me anymore? He clenched his fist harder than usual, retreating back to base.

Back at HOMRA

Yata lied down on his bed, after returning to the bar, because Mikoto had escaped from SCEPTER4's jail, and everyone had celebrated with a group hug and drinks. Everyone was happy. Except him. He turned the small shelf on his left ,at the corner of his room, seeing a familiar book. He quickly turned to the other side of the bed, and tears appeared again.

"SUPERMAN"

I'm sorry, Fushimi. Happy birthday, even though you will probably never hear this coming out from me ever again.

Author's note: Thanks for reading! Its been 3 years since I last wrote a fic. I would really appreciate constructive feedback and comments ^_^v