Ring Of Fire

While in the squalor of Kabukichō, you thought about Mikoto Suoh for the first time in eight years. As his former classmate, you knew the juvenile delinquent as the bad boy everyone loved to hate, but like many of your fellow peers, boy or girl, you couldn't help but feel heavily attracted to the school bully. He was the ideal embodiment of a sexy, tortured ruffian every woman and the occasional man desired.

The thrill, feverish passion, and mystery mixed with forbidden taboos- it was no wonder why the redhead was at the very confidential basis of all sex-fueled daydreams.

Your attraction to the ne're'-do-well in itself was a perplexing enigma; you were like a moth drawn to his flame, but doomed to burn your wings in anguish if you prolonged your captivation to the fated Red King.

The abrupt revival of an unrequited loved nearly disrupted your focus at a conference. The notarized speech was delivered by none other than Hirofumi Jericho, mayor of Shizume.

A gruesome job, if any; yet the task of such a feat was undoubtedly burdensome but as his future wife, however, you figured such a trivial hardship should at least be shared between a happily-married duo.

You stared down at the ring on your finger in awe.

I am getting married, you told yourself repeatedly. Mostly with giddish excitement and partial disbelief.

Still in your outlandish daydream when the crowd began to bustle rambunctiously with timid anticipation did you grasp that the assembly was finally starting.

With revered fascination, you watched as your fiance took to the stage and the crowd buzzed with agitation. You joined in the audience's blistering applause as your heart swelled with pride.

At the prime age of thirty-five Jericho took to the stage in a stylish suit and slicked back hair. Ever the sharply-dressed man, Hirofumi always made it his personal preference to appear presentable at all times. It didn't concern him that a penniless audience wasn't avid on whether or not he was dressed in the latest Hermes or K-Mart line.

Your fiance, after being re-elected for a second term as mayor, created a well-devised 'Clean-Up Act' for the ever prominent parts of the Red-Lantern District, frequently referred to as Kabukichō. As a government official he had to focus on the more 'rougher' areas and improve upon their quality as a benevolent showcase during his second term as an executive official. Such an investment of his time involving the repairment of a prolonged ghetto were what some considered political-power moves and meant to draw in more investments and votes.

Though you know for an off-hand fact that Jericho was far from power-hungry, he was in fact- an honest government worker. A feat some can regularly say. The late Hirofumi was dedicated to his people thus he created a plan that was moving, forthcoming, and brilliantly executed. In short synopsis- it was undeniably genius.

His plan met the articulation of his words and when he was finished the crowd went into an uproar of primitive ovation.

When the audience finished their accolade the reporters jumped in and slammed him with personal questions. One of which he had been waiting for.

"Sir, Channel 7 news here, is it true you are currently seeing someone?" The young reporter inquired. The crowd was serene and waited with expectation as the former senator smiled widely.

"I will not lie to you, I have been seeing someone for years," he chuckled, the revelation of his personal life seemed to stun a number of them. "I know it's shocking, during my time as a mayor I had the privilege of meeting a beautiful woman late one night." He added with emphasis.

There was a coil of restlessness amongst the crowds and yourself as you listened attentively.

"Then again fate is exceptionally unpredictable. One moment you are beseeching the heavens the next you are praising them when you meet the love of your life. I truly believe, people tend to gravitate towards one another during their times of need and I'd like to think that is how I met my fiancee." He paused momentarily as he looked out onto the bureaucratic mass and asked a single question that ensued the people to go ballistic. "Would you like to meet her?"

The eruption skyrocketed your inner turmoil as your lover turned to your reserved spot and held out his hand for you.

Flushed with adoration and dread you wobbled towards the stage as the cameramen bursted into a frenzy of desultory clicking and journalist leapt forward with countless question. Secured under your partner's arm you gave the crowd a small smile.

"How do you stand this?" You whispered uneasily.

"Hey," he said fondly. "They'll love you, Ai. I just know it." And with that he turned and kissed you deeply for the cameras, though inappropriate but an official statement that you two were unquestionably together.

This was it, you realized eagerly. A new beginning as Mrs. Hirofumi.

How horribly wrong you were.


Subsequently, the notarized speech was broadcasted live on nearly every news network plausible. It reached out to nearly a two million viewers, several of which were holed up in a shady pub. The faction of men flickered there eyes back and forth between the TV and their leader.

With visible dismay they followed the pretty woman as she waltzed onstage and tenderly encircled her fiance and the intimate kiss between the two.

Except that it was you.

You kissing another man.

You touching another man.

You engaged to another man.

You in love with another man.

There was a shrill, ear-splitting sound that came from Mikoto's cup. Yata winced as it eventually exploded under the intense heat and shards of glass flew in all directions. Nearly killing Eric on more than one occasion.

The bartender, abhorrently conscious of his bar being mutilated, didn't dare utter a word as a malicious side of Mikoto emerged. Suoh's anger peaked and subconsciously he liquified the TV. The last image was of the pretentious Jericho Hirofumi smiling and waving to the people before it began to burn.

"Anna," he commanded darkly. "I need you to find someone for me."


You swore you caught a glimpse of red amongst the sea of guest. A clash of red hair. Then again you thought it was your eyes playing hasty tricks on you.

"You're not suppose to look this beautiful before the wedding you know." Your eyes snapped into a grim reality as they focused on Kimiko, Jericho's mother, and at her behest, director of your engagement party. With the succession of the English holidays, Jericho and yourself finally had a leisure set-back for your engagement party despite your wedding being only tomorrow.

"You flatter me, Mrs. Hirofumi," you said bashfully.

"Please," she scoffed. "Call me Kimi. As of tomorrow you are Mrs. Hirofumi." She winked at you before she disappeared into the horde of recipients.

Amongst the plethora of people, all wealthy extraordinaries and decorated celebrities, you saw your husband engaging with quite a few members of parliament. He radiated a glow of a groom ready to take on the world with his bride.

With the looming thought of marriage and all its downfalls trailing behind, you were beginning to feel ill at ease. You dismissed it as nothing more than a case of cold feet. When all of sudden you felt exceedingly hot. Without a backwards glance you made for the balcony to get a bout of fresh air. Most of your company was far too drunk or busy bragging about their social status to notice your sudden absence. Except one.

With the intense quiet and cool air you gradually gained a fragment of your composure.

"Enjoying the party?" A voice teased from behind. A dashing individual stood before you. From his taste of clothing and the fact that he wasn't formally dressed you naturally assumed that he was a very brave photographer who dared to threaten your evening. Not to mention he had to be completely mental for wearing shades at night.

"Excuse me," you deflated. "I seem to be out of it tonight."

"It's alright." The man chortled, "Ms. Hanako."

The revelation of a long deceased nickname didn't puzzle you in the slightest. If anything, you were taken aback that the populace hadn't pressed further on the absurdity of that nickname. A high-school one at that, it festered itself after you played a 'special' part in an annual festivity for spring during your first year. You, and only you, handed out bouquets of flowers to deserving individuals. One of your close knit friends called you 'Hanako' (Flower Child), which seemingly stuck for the remainder of your years at Shizume High.

"No one has called me that in years," you giggled aloud. Then it hit you. "Have we met before? I mean-before my engagement to Jericho?"

"Can't say that we have. Although, I gotta say, it is a pleasure to finally meet you- I've heard a lot about you."

You joked lightly, "All good things I hope."

"Strange and wondrous is how I would put it. My superior seems to think that you are, by far, one of the most remarkable people he's ever met. For some time I couldn't understand his infatuation, but now I think I do."

"Do you work for Jericho?" Hitherto none of his staff resembled him remotely. Most of them were withering as you spoke!

He snorted as he lit a cigarette and took a long drag, "Let's say I work for someone higher up."

"The prime minister?" You naively pried.

"Not quite." It was then that the man smiled darkly. Unsettling, was the word for it.

You didn't understand him or his puzzling riddles and made up your mind to leave the godforsaken balcony.

Your hand hovered just above the doorknob when he advised,"I would not do that if I were you."

You froze. "Why?" You probed.

He looked up and with a long puff of smoke, replied, "The show's about to start."

"What show?" You interrogated shakily as you looked up. It was only then that you saw something beyond words and beyond any elemental law of physics or rules of the known universe.

Floating above like an ominous omen was a massive sword. It hung just above the ballroom. Indescribable but it was in a sick, twisted way divine.

"Oh my god," was all you could mutter.

Then it happened.

An earth rocking explosion erupted from inside the hall. The impact caused you to nearly go over the railing hadn't been for the man who reeked of nicotine. Your immediate instinct was to run back inside, but the unknown assailant was quicker.

"I have to keep you safe!" He yelled over the blazing fire.

You were hysterical beyond all logic as you screamed, "My fiance is in there!"

You were about to run towards the door when he grabbed you. With a sharp twist you managed to knock your head back and smash his perfect nose. Releasing his lethal grip on you.

Your hand grabbed the door. Metal was a great conductor for heat and burned your hand, the rush of adrenaline that was coursing through you made most of your senses completely numb thankfully.

Jericho. His name was in your veins and mind as you searched the devastation of your house for him.

The flame was engulfing your mansion and raising with each staggered breath. It scorched and devoured anything in its path -including your guests.

Their tortured screams filled the air as raised your arm to fight the intense smoke and falling debri. The house was coming apart quickly.

Your friends and future family reached for out to you but to no avail did you see your husband. When you heard a croak by one of the large fallen white porticos in the middle of the ballroom.

"Ai," he called weakly. You rushed to his side, trying desperately to ignore the evident fact that his leg was crushed by the pillar.

"Don't worry honey- I'm-I'm gonna get you out of here and then we're going to have a beautiful wedding!" You stammered pathetically. The smoke was filling your lungs with quick rapidity. You dry-heaved loudly as you foolishly attempted to try and at least roll the pillar. After various feeble attempts you decided that after this whole thing blew over you were absolutely downsizing to a townhouse.

"Save yourself," he cried weakly.

"I am not leaving you here," you declared proudly but deep down you were a terrified little girl.

"How touching," a voice cooed from the embers. A figure materialized from the fire and you watched with astonishment and fear as it transfigured into something human.

You stumbled back and tripped on a piece of rubble. A cigarette was flicked in your direction and it sprung forth a perfect ring of fire. Preventing all means of escape.

"Who are you?" You marveled. Every single primal instinct was telling you to run, hide, fight however you sat there like a blundering idiot.

"That's hurtful," he pouted as he laid a hand over his heart with false remorse. "After all, Hanako, I remember you quite fondly."

Then it hit you blurred images, but it was all there.

"Mikoto?" You quavered.

He smiled wickedly, "That is the answer to the million dollar question."

You crawled backwards evading his oncoming presence despite the room for your escape being narrow. He crouched down beside you, his amber eyes glaring into yours menacingly.

Questions were running a million miles a minute but one scoured the tip of your tongue, "Why?"

"I tried to fight this for too long," he said sadly. Distraught and immensely confused you reached and caressed his face. He eyes closed at the sensitivity of your touch, something he dreamed of often. "And it looks I lost."

That was when the darkness swallowed you whole and your last image was of Jericho screaming your name.


"Love is a burnin' thing

And it makes a fiery ring

Bound by wild desire

I fell into a ring of fire

The taste of love is sweet.

When hearts like ours meet

I fell for you like a child

Oh, but the fire went wild

I fell into a burnin' ring of fire

I went down, down, down

And the flames went higher

And it burns, burns, burns

The ring of fire, the ring of fire."

Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash


Word Count: 2, 474

Chapter Theme: Favorite Song

Published: July 12, 2016