A/N: to all you beauties out there, I have decided to give you something more to read! It's AnnaXMikoto, because I absolutely adore them together. I somehow like the idea of Mikoto being a lolicon, and then I decide it's a bit odd. So... Anna will be older. A tab bit, anyway. More chapters later on will be rated M, but a fair warning will be given beforehand. So, enjoy!
P.S: I really do apologize for any OOC-ness! Gomen! But I will be basing all of their characters off of K – Memory of Red. Also, disclaimer! All characters belong to GoRa/GoHands unless I say otherwise.
Chapter One – Safety.
During the festive time of the month that was Christmas, or more specifically, December, the activity in Japan was bustling, suffocating. Christmas was still ages away, but already children were going wild, counting down the hours and gazing excitedly into shop windows whilst mothers ushered them away hurriedly, anxious to complete their shopping early. But slowly, surely, the crowd began to part like the Red Sea, loud whispers and gasps emanating from the eeling, riled crowd as two figures passed through. A tall man that easily surpassed six foot, and a tiny, doll-like girl. The man's hair was a deep crimson colour, extending from his head like fire flames licking against the air and his eyes were narrow and cold but golden, like the polished face of a coin. His body was lithe, and the muscles that worked like wires were evident beneath his clothing, moving with each step he made. He was clad in a white shirt as well as a heavy black jacket, and dark jeans, black boots on his feet. With each step, a soft tinkling sound resonated through the air as his adornments clinked against one another. 'Yakuza' was a word that weaved its way through the crowd, to which the crimson-haired man promptly ignored. It was true, but they didn't need to be so obvious about it.
While mostly women's infatuated stares were directed towards the man, the majority of the males standing in the crowd were pasted to the little girl following in close pursuit to the tall man. Her body was of a petite build, slender and willowy and she barely reached the man's waist. Her hair was of a bright colour, almost appearing white in the cool air, and it cascaded to her lower back in straight, even locks. Her eyes were wide and held such purity, but were tainted a soft red colour, tinted with lower shades of grey and her lashes were far too long and thick, deeply contrasting with the lovely white of her skin. The little girl dressed in the Gothic-Lolita fashion, red and black dominating the majority of her clothing save her white stockings. She wore no jewellery apart from a ribbon and hat tied into her hair. With each step and her expressionless, sweetly-rounded face, she could have been a life-size doll.
The pair seemed odd together – a complete hardcore man who looked as though he wouldn't hesitate to strangle someone, and an innocent doll by his side? A sight for sore eyes if there ever was one. Yet they suited each other somehow, like a sin standing beside righteousness. Both radiated an aura of sorts that made the crowd shiver and disperse like a whisp of smoke. Both man and girl took no notice. It was a common occurrence. As they walked, the girl clinging to the man's jacket tugged on its end once, and gazed up expectantly. He looked down instantly to show he was listening, or alert to any movement she would make. She was not a mute, but not a big conversationalist either, something that linked into their bond, too.
"Mikoto-san, can we go to that one?" asked Anna, her tone resembling her vision – monochromatic. Black and white, no high or depressed tones taking to her sweet voice. Simply neutral. Mikoto's golden eyes trailed along the hand she held out, and glanced upon yet another boutique. He didn't sigh though he was sorely tempted to. It was not often he went shopping, no less clothes shopping, but he went with Anna every year near to Christmas and bought her whatever she liked; which was not a problem, because Anna was not a selfish child, nor was she greedy, thus did not ask for much and was easily pleased. Without a word or even notion that he'd heard her, he began walking. His left hand slipped out of his pocket, and Anna clasped hers in it. Instantaneously, his fingers slowly began to stroke hers.
This was almost ritual. She would hold onto his hand, his fingers, calloused as they were, would gently brush over her knuckles before settling and clasping his fingers through hers. It was comforting to them both, really, though neither ever said so. They did not need to.
"Good evening! Welcome! Would you like assistance?" came the shrill, overly-happy but obviously strained greeting. A woman that must have been well into her thirties came bouncing over, her gaze instantly fixated on Mikoto. She looked as though she was desperately trying to dress younger than she was, yet he had a feeling it didn't do her much justice. Mikoto blinked, his facial expression never changing but inside he was snarling. Women in these boutiques were so obnoxious, and the choking odor that emitted from them was enough to drive anyone away. Instead, Mikoto glanced down to find Anna's gaze already settled on him, and he released her hand. She nodded as he went to sit on one of the plush velvet seats that were often just inside the door.
And Anna was left to the hands of this woman. The little girl did not mind, as they usually did know what they were doing. "Ah, sweetie, is that your daddy?" asked the woman, her face contorting into one of confusion, though her smile remained plastered in place. Botox, Anna thought immediately. "No." Was her curt reply. Instead of making conversation, she began to glance around the store. It was bright and very... Pink. But to the back where the lighting dimmed slightly, she could see something she thought she'd like. The woman nodded and sniffed, obviously a bit disheartened. "Alright, dear! See anything you like?"
Ten minutes later, Anna was standing in the expensively-furnished dressing room, basked in the illuminating glow of the golden light overhead. Replacing her usual attire was another Gothic-Lolita dress, only this one was all black. It came down in a rounded neck-like, and the sleeves puffed out at her shoulders. The bodice of this dress had been pulled tight as it was a corset, the black ribbon tied into a neat bow, curving in at her waist. Ruffling out from her hips in a cascade of lace and layers were multiple gossamer skirts, creating a cup-cake like effect. Two black roses clipped the silk of the bodice up from the skirts. On her legs, Anna wore gossamer-black stockings with lace on the hemming. She removed her hat, and pushed back the curtain, earning a startled yet awe-struck gasp from the woman who had tended to her. "Oh, dear! You look gorgeous! Like a little doll! Hold on a moment," said the woman, almost breathless, and Anna did; standing deathly still, eyes transfixed on the gap out into the main body of the shop.
"...Absolutely beautiful, you should be proud."
Seconds later, the woman came back with Mikoto behind her. Anna blinked, her lashes creating inky crescents on her cheeks before fanning back out to frame her eyes. She felt a soft blush colour onto her cheeks as Mikoto's gaze settled on her. He barely inclined her head, and Anna twirled on her heel, the skirts lifting from her legs and splaying out around her only to rest against her again as she halted. "Fabulous," the woman sniffed. "Absolutely fabulous." Mikoto only grunted in response to the woman's awing.
"You like that one?" he simply asked, his tone lazy and relaxed. It was one of those drawling voices that could melt someone at the knees – but it was also the voice of a predator aroused from a slumber, sussing out its reason for awakening. He never showed irritation with Anna, though she could feel it brewing inside of him now – mainly for having to endure the woman's fawning for more than two minutes. A smile broke onto Anna's lips momentarily. "Yes, Mikoto-san."
Mikoto's towering form then left the room, and turned out of the room once again. "Dear... He's quite scary, isn't he?" joked the shop assistant, but Anna was unfazed. She may be eleven, but she wasn't an idiot, nor should she be spoken to like a child. Her intellectual abilities were far more advanced than for her age group, and she was a lot more aware of her surroundings than one would think. Yet she simply nodded her head once, then returning to her dressing room to strip off. True, Mikoto could be quite scary, but she had never been afraid of him. Everything Anna was had been entrusted to Mikoto, and that was that. Need she be afraid of him? There was no logical reason as to why, besides the fact he was a rather violent King possessing powers one could only dream to have. But no fear registered with Anna. She saw him. And his red was prettiest, after all.
As she finished dressing, she emerged from behind the curtain again, holding the dress and stockings on their individual hangers, and glanced up at the shop assistant. "Good to go?" asked the woman, leading Anna back to the main body of the shop. Mikoto was already waiting at the counter, looking more harassed and exhausted with each word that left the cashier's mouth. The cashier couldn't have been older than twenty two, and she was gazing with a fierce intensity at the Red King, her elbows as well as her bosom propped up onto the counter whilst her head lay in her palms. She was quite attractive with long, raven-black hair and wide blue eyes, but apparently Mikoto didn't think so. Anna silently went to him, and he lifted the dress from her hands, placing it on the counter.
"Oh my gosh, is this your little sister? You look nothing alike! She's so cute! How old are you, sweetie?" Asked the girl as she bent over the counter, disinterested in pricing and accepting the money for the dress. Instead, the woman who'd been helping Anna did the cashier's job, placing the dress and stockings into a bag with the boutique's logo on each side. "That'll be 8,000 yen, please." While Mikoto paid – probably itching for a cigarette with the intensity he was handing the money over with – the raven-haired girl was patting and prodding Anna's silken hair, 'ooh'-ing and 'aah'-ing at it, something Anna found extremely uncomfortable. Not just anyone could touch her hair. Suddenly, the bag was dropped in front of her face, and Anna's small hands clasped around its handles. Mikoto's large, faintly tanned hand planted itself firmly against Anna's back, ushering her from the store. The women hollered their goodbyes enthusiastically, but the brooding, silent pair did not reply. As soon as they had left the warmth of the shop, the chilling air bit into Anna's skin, cooling into her face. Mikoto slipped a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, inhaling a long pull before releasing it and watching it mist out into the air before him. Glancing down to Anna, he nodded, and she juggled the bag into her left hand, clasping to Mikoto's with her right.
And again, they strode down the street, side-by-side, silent yet content. Snow began to fall in perfect unison, creating a diagonal descend onto the concrete below their feet. Anna tilted her face upwards, and watched as the white flakes drifted down in swirling patterns from the grey sky above. It was getting darker – she could see by the way the sky was beginning to blacken in some parts whilst remaining a light, frosty grey overhead, the inky darkness creeping in from the horizon.
The brat never ceased to fascinate him. Even now, as she watched the snow fall, the look of wisdom lurking in her eyes was enough to remind him how fast she was growing. Plus, being a unique kind of Strain, she held that kind of... Extra status. Yet despite her age – no matter how young or old, anyone would be accepted into Homra, into the Red clan as long as they were worthy of receiving such a title. And he had seen so much potential in this little girl, perhaps as much as Tatara Totsuka had seen in her. He had come to care for her, treasure her even. Though of course, he need never discuss it with her – Anna probably knew it herself. And her attachment to him simply spoke for itself. Mikoto let out another breath of smoke, glancing towards Homra's bar. Light flooded from the windows, indicating Izumo was still running – and apparently, so were his customers. Close to Christmas? He just had to see who was in here at this hour. Anna tugged on his hand, and he glanced down. "What?"
"M-Mikoto-s-sa-an..." said the little loli through chattering teeth. Mikoto's eyes widened slightly, and then narrowed. Instantly, his aura flared, and the red wave of heat washed over his little loli, chasing away any chill that had worked its way past her clothing. Wait – his? Mikoto's eyes blinked, and he frowned very slightly. But without hesitancy, he led Anna up the steps and opened the doors to the bar, closing them as soon as they'd both entered in. They were greeted by a chortle of drunken (and sober) roars, that of which followed with a bout of laughter. There was a vibe of good energy buzzing through the lounge, and Izumo didn't even look stressed. For once.
Anna turned and bowed to Mikoto, thanking him for the shopping trip. To show he didn't mind, he placed his hand on top of her head and ruffled her silvery locks. She shot him a quick and very rare smile, before going towards the bar and sitting up onto a vacant stool. "Ah, the lovely lady returns!" grinned Izumo, twirling towards Anna with a rag in hand. "What did Mikoto-san buy you this year, Anna-chan?" And in reply, Anna removed the dress from the bag, holding it out so that the blonde-haired barman could see it in full. He smiled, but it was a much more meaningful one. He leaned across to plant a kiss on her cheek, before nodding with a smile to Mikoto who was already retreating up the stairs, probably to escape the drunken chatter for the evening. The little silvery-haired girl placed the dress back into the bag. "The woman in the shop smelled too strongly of perfume. And I think she liked Mikoto-san."
That earned a full, hearty laugh from Izumo.
"He is a real hit with the ladies. He just doesn't know it," chuckled Izumo, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. "Yata-chan should be over soon to help me clean up. How about you go up and have a bath and I'll cook something. I bet it was cold today."
Anna nodded, and took her bag with her as she slipped off of her barstool to pop up along the stairs. First she went to her room, which was on the first right off of the landing. Opening the door, she flicked on the over-head light and placed her bag down by the door. Her room was quite plain but pretty – all dark wood and lavish silk. It was girly in its own way, but not really what one would expect from an eleven-year-old girl. She liked it that way, though. Anna wasted no time in gathering clothes to change into, and leaving her room once again, flicking off the switch before closing the door. She retreated further along the corridor to the last door. She did not knock, but rather opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind her.
Mikoto lay on the bed, fully clothed with the exception of his boots – which lay sad and lonely in the center of the hardwood floor – with an arm thrown over his eyes. He didn't even look up as Anna entered, rather began to breathe normally again to assure her he was not sleeping. "Mikoto-san, could you run a bath for me, please?" she asked quietly, her wide, nearly translucent eyes awaiting a physical response from him. Slowly, but in a way that held so much grace, the King lifted himself from his bed and stripped off his jacket, throwing it across the back of a chair that stood in front of an abandoned desk.
"Come on."
He went to the bathroom located the left side of his room, and opened the door. She stood uncertainly a moment, and gazed around Mikoto's room. It was familiar, and more homely to her than her own room, if she was entirely honest. It was always warm in here, and best of all, it had Mikoto's red. That was always prettiest, more pretty than anything she had in her room. The sound of water running consciously made Anna go to the bathroom. It was big enough, and tiled in cream and gold, soft browns in the odd decorating center tile of every four. Mikoto was bent over the bath, adding foaming bubbles to the water. He knew when to turn off the tap, too, leaving it just the way Anna preferred it. He did not turn around as Anna began to strip off her clothing, nor did he throw her naked body a second glance as she tested the water with a toe before climbing in. The water lapped softly just above her hips, the bubbles creating a soothing almost melodic relaxation to haze across Anna's ever-active mind.
"Hand me the shampoo," said Mikoto as he picked up the shower head, and turned it on at the lowest setting, allowing the soft water to gently glide along Anna's glittery, silken locks. Tatara had always washed Anna's hair, but... When Tatara died, Mikoto had to assume the position of Anna's bath companion. Not something he'd been pleased with at first – Izumo was more the fatherly-type – but had grown tolerant of it eventually. Anna ceremoniously took in hand the unbranded store shampoo that scented of roses and handed it to him. She turned away from him then, allowing her back to face him as he gently began to lather the sweet-smelling shampoo into her hair. His fingers never tangled in any knots, but if they did, he'd gently pull until it was gone. And Anna never once complained.
Not a pip was heard from her during bath-time, mainly because it was so soothing... Numbing, even. She was caught in the undertow of the water's heat, and Mikoto's large yet gentle hands running continuously through her hair, massaging her scalp and just the intoxicating scent as it filled her nostrils. It had a calming effect, and she often wished bath-time never had to end. That it could just to on forever. But after about half-an-hour, Mikoto's hands dipped into the water, creating a sudden burst of new bubbles, and then water from the shower head began to spill onto her silken tendrils, washing the thickly-lathered product from her hair, leaving it gleaming and shining. After he'd thoroughly rinsed her hair, and leaned across for the body-cloth and bath gel that lay on the tub's side. He squirted some of the gel onto the cloth, and lathered it in the water.
Anna turned and faced him then as he began to wipe her skin clean. With each stroke of his hand, Anna felt herself slip into the delirious state again, only to come alive at the small splashing sounds that would resonate through the steamy air every once in a while. Only, the bathwater could not and would not stay hot for long, forcing Anna to rinse every sud from her body, and get out. Mikoto assisted her in silence throughout, handing her a towel to dry her hair with while he towel dried her body off. He did it with slow, deliberate movements. Almost like she was the personification of fragility, and one wrong movement and she'd shatter to pieces in front of him. Of course that was not true, but he continued with it that way.
Only recently she'd begun to wonder why. Why did he bath her and wash her hair? Why did he take such care of her? Why did he allow their bond and link undisturbed? Why did he still allow her to sleep with him at night? She would never ask him these questions, though. She couldn't. Anna would always fear the answers to follow. She didn't know why, but that was her initial reaction when each of these questions came to drift along her train of thought. And so she forever remained the expressionless child-like doll that hardly ever uttered a word. She preferred it that way, though. Apparently, so did Mikoto.
"Comb out your hair and dress."
This was a routine she knew off by heart. Mikoto took the towel from her, and the one she'd wrapped her hair in, as well as the clothing she'd discarded and exited the bathroom then bedroom. He would go downstairs while she dressed – he'd tell Izumo to cook something for them to eat while he'd collapse on the couch, and she combed out her hair until it was partially dry. And then she went downstairs, too, only to see Yata and Eric already delving deep into another Chihuahua argument (with Eric holding the advantage, insulting poor Yatagarasu in English). Mikoto seemed to be tolerating it while he watched TV, and Izumo was being bothered by it, but he wouldn't say something until his bar was damaged. That was how it usually went. Anna descended from the staircase, and was instantly enveloped in a hug by Yata.
"Anna-chan! Princess!" said the chestnut-haired teen, picking the loli up and swinging her around and setting her down again, his face full of delight as his eyes fixated on hers. Anna lay a hand on his cheek and smiled softly. Outside of Tatara, Mikoto, and Izumo, Yata was her favourite. "Hi, Yata-chan."
Eric wasted no time in knocking Yata out of the way, though, leaning onto one knee as he took up Anna's hand and planting a soft kiss onto her knuckles. "Good evening, Anna-hime," he teased like he often did, and Anna couldn't help but giggle, which was so odd. But the 'hime' added to her name always felt like it was something she should laugh at.
From the couch where Mikoto was firmly indenting the print of his backside into, he observed that. Of course the other members of Homra were friendly with Anna, even affectionate, but never was Mikoto glad to see it. The only resemblance of the feeling he was overwhelmed by when he saw such things was when a child had its favourite toy picked up by another child. Of course, if he had been a child, he would have gone over and punched Eric in the face already. But he couldn't, and it was a silly thing to start a brawl over. Eric was like a brother to him – they all were – therefore he didn't see point in it. Yet, still, that childish, possessive part of him growled. It never stopped. Softly, he sighed, and placed a palm to his forehead. The wafting scent of Izumo's cooking tickled at his nose, and his stomach whined incessantly at him. Mikoto simply lay back to his original position, and refused to watch anymore affectionate ongoings Yata and Eric had with the princess, his moody, arrogant expression slipping into place.
"Food's ready!" called Izumo's cheerful, peppy voice from the kitchen as he emerged with four plates. He expertly set them out onto the bar's surface, then glanced up with a triumphant expression planted onto his features. Yata began to roar with laughter then as he saw Izumo's face fall upon the recognition that Eric had also decided to join them.
"Suck it, bitch!" snorted Yata, plopping himself onto one of the barstools and hastily digging into the seasoned rice and Miso soup Izumo had prepared. Eric shot a filthy look to Yata then, and assisted Anna onto her seat where she began to eat too, uttering a quiet thank you to Izumo before picking up her utensils. "It's alright, Izumo-kun," said Eric with a reassuring smile. "I was just about to head out anyway. See you guys tomorrow!" he called as he went to the bar's door and opened it up, walking out and closing it behind him. Mikoto then rose from his seat, and joined his clansmen at the bar. Izumo didn't bother to sit, rather stood behind the bar and picked up his plate there.
"So, Anna, did you have a good day?" inquired Izumo, breaking the silence (well, it was silent except for Yata's obnoxiously loud noises of appreciation).
The silver-haired girl nodded, eyes seeking out the red that sat beside her. Such a pretty red. "Yes. Mikoto-san was very good to me," she stated in her quiet voice.
Izumo nodded and observed Anna then. Her voice was so similar to Mikoto's. Obviously it had a feminine ring to it, and it was a few octaves higher, but it held that same disinterested tone, one that was always true to her mood. Even now, Izumo couldn't tell if she were happy or not if he could not see her. Of course, her voice could hold emotions – she just did not allow it to. Wise decision, he sighed internally to himself. Mikoto's golden eyes rested on Izumo's then, and the barman smiled at his long-term friend. The King simply rose his eyebrows a bit, looked down and returned to his meal. Yata had polished off his by now, and was groaning loudly. The skater slipped from his stool and proceeded to whine on the ground, huddled into a ball.
Anna's eyes fell to Yata's form, and she rose her eyebrows, as did Mikoto's. "That's what you get for eating like a Chihuahua," stated Mikoto bluntly, and in an instant, Yata was on his feet, his jaw clenched in such a comical manner, it took sole and steady concentration for Izumo to swallow his food correctly. "What?!" Yata then launched off on a rant about that "stupid son-of-a-bitch Eric", and how he was "not a god-damned Chihuahua". All of which no one really paid attention to. Yet, still, Yata's behaviour made the meal more enjoyable, his noise filling the atmosphere, changing it to one of light humor, despite Mikoto's constant scowl. Anna, whilst finishing the last of her Miso soup, glanced up at the King through her impossibly long lashes. Her crimson hues simply saw his red, his pretty red, and she smiled to herself. If only he could see it, too.
"Goodnight, Yata," called Izumo as he began to gather up the dishes. Yata waved at them, a smile on his lips. "See you tomorrow!" and he left, leaving the trio alone. Mikoto let out a long sigh, slipping a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with an almost impatient gesture. Izumo shot him a long contemplating look, his eyes shining behind his glasses. "Any more news from Scepter 4?"
Mikoto's darkened amber orbs shot up to meet Izumo's, and for a moment he said nothing. Running a hand through his fiery hair, he shook his head. "No. I assume there won't be for a few weeks, at least."
Anna wondered what they were speaking of. Scepter 4 wanted a meeting? Well, that wasn't an odd request. They often wanted to meet with Mikoto, though never explained why. She glanced up at both men, the whites of her eyes tinged a slight red as she yawned. She then proceeded to rub at her eyes, to which Izumo shot her a hard stare. "Time for bed," said the barman with a slight sigh as he whisked the dishes off of the polished bar's surface, and went to the kitchen with him. "I'll head off soon, then I'll lock up."
Mikoto sighed, and tapped his cigarette in the ashtray. Gently, he ushered Anna from her perch on the barstool and she followed him obediently up the stairs, uttering a soft goodnight to a distracted Izumo. He smiled but did not wave, considering he was elbow-deep in sudsy water and hated to get the water everywhere. Their synchronized footsteps tapped up the shadowed staircase, a steady, rhythmic beat sounding to their ears. "Mikoto-san..." began Anna in her quiet voice, gaining his immediate attention, his lingering gaze traveling down along her form.
"What is it?"
"My head hurts," muttered Anna.
The King's face softened into a mildly startled expression. It wasn't often his Princess complained, even less so when she was in pain. She was an entirely selfless little girl, and only ever spoke up when it was necessary. Mikoto simply nodded, and led the way to his room. It was already dark, the only light entering from the emanating silvery stars, illuminating the shadows in glittery strands. He closed the door when they were both inside and she followed him to the relatively big bed. "You're probably coming down with a cold." Mikoto's voice still had its usual nonchalant drawl, but there was something of sympathy in it as he removed his shirt and pulled on a plain black tank shirt as a replacement. He flopped down in a lazy manner onto the bed and lay down, watching as Anna hopped onto the mattress and settled herself in beside him.
An arm went around her, pulling her closer. Her scent enveloped him, and she sighed in content. He let his warm aura flare slightly, chasing away the chill in the room and let it wrap around both of them in a gentle caress. Anna curled up, resting her head on his arm and his body turned onto his side so that he could hold her – as he always did. She was almost like a teddy, something to clutch as though to ward against the nightmares that always followed him into a deep, dark slumber. He hated nightmares, really and truly. Not because they were ghosts of the past, creating a black, clutching wave of inner turmoil that curled in him like a keening cat, more so because it brought out a demon inside of him – a demon that Anna could see through their link. He did not share his dreams with her on purpose, but because she was a powerful Strain already linked closely to him, she witnessed the same things he did. Which terrified her, he knew. Mikoto had long become accustomed to their shaking effects and thought nothing of them, really. But Anna... They tainted her innocence, and he was almost reluctant to let her sleep with him as of late.
But every morning, when they would awaken, he would hear nothing of the terror she'd seen in her sleep. She said nothing. But her hazy, crimson hues would turn on him almost in fear, but then she would struggle from the fog of sleep, and would see him and relax.
Still, it killed him to know she was bottling it up. It killed him to know she didn't mind. It killed him to know she tolerated it because she did not want to sleep alone. And he could do nothing about it. To not have her at his side before slumbering... Mikoto couldn't really imagine what that would be like. Her soft breaths lulled him to sleep, rather than the unbearably loud silence he witnessed when alone. He made a grunting sound to alert himself of the conflict he was creating inside himself intentionally. "Mikoto?" came Anna's soft, sleep-ridden voice, and he froze. His darkened amber hues then rested on her half-lidded crimson ones, and he blinked as if to ask what she wanted.
"It's alright, Mikoto-san."
And in those simple, seemingly-innocent words, Mikoto's sense of self was suddenly lost. The ferocious lion in him sprang to its haunches, and let out a mighty roar of sheer rage. Rage at this little girl's passiveness, at her acceptance. Alright? How could it be alright? His eyes widened and in the dark, they flashed a crimson to show his annoyance, his anger even. It was not alright! Not alright for her to feel the same constant disruption he felt every single god-damned day! Why would she even think that? Consider that statement correct, even for a moment? The lion in him let out another displeased growl, but its anger was subdued to hear Anna's deep, even breaths. She was asleep.
Mikoto begrudgingly lay his eyes on Anna's face once again. She seemed so peaceful, not yet suffering through the torment she was inevitable to encounter later. Her thick, black lashes rested like inky crescents on her cheeks, and her rose-bud pink lips were slightly open. She's going to beautiful when she grows up, thought Mikoto suddenly. She would be, he could feel it. That child-like innocence would be lost, and she'd be a woman. A real woman. And it was something he almost feared, because she would no longer hold to his hand nor his jacket, or would she ask frivolous things of him – like to go on a date, or read to her, or watch silly TV programmes with her. Dwelling on that, he slowly, slowly drifted off into a slumber of his own, his body curled in around Anna's.
A/N: ... Hm. Why do I have the feeling that finished off weakly? Argh. Anyway, it would be much appreciated if you would review, please! Much love!