A/N: Shot but sweet, my first SaruMi fanfiction. I hope you like it. The idea was from the top of my head, I wrote most of it during my Japanese Economy class on Wednesday, but finished it today in my Japanese class. The second chapter will be longer and will probably contain a lemon. It's half-written already. And yeah, my summary sucks, so thank you if you have still chosen to read this. ^^

Edited: I fixed some mistakes and changed the form of the direct speech since it was awful and half of it disappeared when I uploaded this.

SaruMi is my otp. :heart:

Warning: Yaoi, angst/hurt/comfort.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from K, it all belongs to GoHands, VizMedia etc. Only the plot is mine.


He was sitting on his favorite bench in the park, drinking his coffee. Bags under his eyes suggested that the coffee was a necessity to keep him awake. The truth was – Saruhiko felt worse than he looked. He was coming down with a cold, a rather nasty one in fact, and that combined with long working hours made him grumpy and ill-mannered, even more than usual.

Taking the last sip of his now cold coffee he was ready to head off to the Scepter4 office, but when he tried to get up his vertigo took him by surprise and he fell over back to the bench, spilling the last drops of coffee over his uniform.

Rubbing his eyes until he saw stars also didn't help and when he noticed the remnants of his coffee on his brand new uniform jacket he threw the cup over his head, annoyed. He 'tsk'ed when he heard it land on somebody's head. The person swore loudly and Fushimi rolled his eyes at the action, before realizing who's voice it was. His frown was erased in an instant as he turned to face his old comrade from Homra.

As he turned, Misaki's face was the complete opposite to his sly grin.

"Mi-sa-ki..." was all he was able to say before the older teen had cut him off.

"I knew it had to be you Saru! You idiot, why dont' you look when you throw stuff?!"

'Typical Misaki' Saruhiko thought. 'He's not at all concerned about me throwing trash around, as long as I don't hit someone. Or rather, him. Priorities...'

Fushimi knew well that it was wrong throwing garbage like that, but in his current condition he didn't really care that much. The splitting headache he had since this morning reminded him of that. He instantly frowned, remembering the stacked pile of papers that waited for him at work.

'Well, at least I'll have some fun now.' He thought. Messing with Misaki always elevated his mood.

Misaki kept rambling about trash and Saruhiko being a jerk when Saru approached him, making him stop in the middle of the sentence.

"Why are you giving me that creepy look, traitor?" Misaki's cheeks turned slightly pink as his ex-friend glared at him.

"You look special today Misaki. I can't really put my finger on it, but, is it something about your hair?" Fushimi teased him, waiting for the line to be crossed. He tried to ignore the pain in his skull.

"What are you talking about?" Misaki gave him a confused expression.

"It's the same as I have always known it, you are the same, but in the same time you're not... Hmm..." Fushimi was now intesely staring at him.

"Shuddup you damn traitor, you don't know anything about me!" Misaki yelled, making a few pidgeons on the nearby bench fly away.

"Oooh, but I do know a great deal about you Mi-sa-ki. Or have you forgotten all the happy times we've shared?"

"None of them were happy!"

"Is that so? I do remember quite a few very interesting times myself. Such as the time we ate pizza at your place, or the time we rode the rolercoster and I bought you ice-cream afterwards. What were your exact words? 'I seriously couldn't be happier than now.' If I recall correctly."

Misaki blushed, remembering that sunny afternoon when they skipped school. He shook his head and retored:

"You erased every happy memory, as well as everything good about you when you betryed Homura!"

"Tsk, you're still fixating on that..."

"I don't want to listen to your words anymore you damn Saru! I'm leaving."

Saruhiko's smile turned upside down as he saw the short redhead grab his skatebord and turn away.

"Oh c'mon, weren't we having fun until just now, Mi-sa-ki?"

This tipped him off. Misaki's ears turned red with anger as he turned and marched to the dark haired teen.

"You think all this is fun? You think I'm having fun?! Maybe it's fun to you, but I'm definitely not having fun!" he emphasized each 'fun', showing his discomfort.

Saruhiko watched his pained expression, analysing his features. His gaze slowly travelled to Misaki's eyes and Sarukiko's heart skipped a beat. The hazel eyes resonated with hatered, hurt and regret. And something more...

"This isn't fun at all..." Misaki whispered with a broken voice, a single tear sliding down his cheek.

Saruhiko couldn't handle it anymore. His face held no expression as he turned and left. He wasn't having fun either anymore. More than that, he didn't want to see that sad face, the saddness he caused to the preson that meant most to him.

Misaki was wipping the tear from his hot cheek when he saw Saru leaving. At first, he didn't care, Saru brought him nothing but pain since he left Homura. But, in a heartbeat he felt the gapping hole in his chest he knew too well – it always appeared when they were apart even before, when Saru was still there for him.

Being around him now was painful, but being without him was devastating. He was just about to shout after him, make him come back and torture Misaki some more when he saw Saru collapse on the pavement. In an instant Misaki was by his side, fingers burried in Saruhiko's shirt, shaking him.

"Oe, oe! Saru, wake up! You damn Saru, don't do this to me... Saru!"

The last thing Saruhiko saw was a pair of hazel eyes.


A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you will find it worth enough to review! Matta ne~!