Unrequited Love
Summary: One-sided feelings of Izumo to Mikoto.
Warning: None
Characters: Mikoto Suoh & Izumo Kusanagi
Rated: T for slash
Disclaimer: I do not own K Project.
Kusanagi Izumo. 26-year-old. A bartender. HOMRA's second-in-command. An informant.
What else about him that people should know?
A coward, perhaps?
Heh.
It was already very late at night, but here Mikoto was, at Izumo's apartment, having a drink with the best man he knew in his lifetime, a friend he trusted most, a friend whom understand him most.
He glanced at his friend beside him, who was watching the currently famous late-night television program with a smile on his face. He thought it was a silly variety program, but Izumo never missed the show. Perhaps it was like a quick remedy to heal the bartender's exhausted mind and body after a long day of handling a busy bar and a bunch of reckless kids. And tonight, Izumo looked composed and collected as always.
Finishing the last drop of his bourbon, Mikoto rose up and slid his jacket.
"Are you going back, Mikoto?" Izumo finally glanced up at him, tearing his eyes away from the screen for the first time.
"Aa…"
Izumo looked downward with his eyebrows knitting together in a slight frown. He looked somewhat disappointed actually.
Don't go…can't you stay for tonight?
Unfortunately Izumo was too much of a coward to voice out his mind.
"Is that so? Well, see you tomorrow. Be sure you go straight home, yeah?" He cursed himself for being cowardice. Picking up his PDA on the coffee table, his eyes were focused on the small screen, just for the sake of making himself appear busy.
Mikoto gave his friend a last glance before he made his way across the living room and turned at the corner. A few seconds later, Izumo heard the soft click of the main door getting shut.
The PDA dropped from his hand to the empty spot filled by Mikoto earlier.
His shoulders were shaking. Slow at first, but they turned vigorous seconds after. Tears pricked his eyes, so he let his eyes close and once he reopened them, the tears rolled down his flushed cheeks.
Eh?
Startled, Izumo ran a hand across his cheek, and found his fingers wet from the tears. He knew he was crying, but he felt too numb for some reason. He failed to think of anything at the time, not in this state, not when he was feeling down, not when his feeling was being crushed.
And not when his heart was torn into pieces every single time Mikoto left him alone.
He lifted his head, facing forward with blurry eyes. His gaze fell on the tv screen, but his brain could not register what was going on with the show. All he heard was unclear sound of people talking.
He had no idea why, but suddenly he felt cold and lonely. It was like Mikoto brought the warmth away with him. Izumo wrapped his arms around his shivering body. It felt like darkness was engulfing him from behind.
It was right at the moment that sobs were broken, and Izumo was aware it was a sign of him failing to take a grip control of his muddled feelings.
He hated this. Mikoto…he…he was always so close, yet he was very far. Too far from his reach.
Izumo could not help but think fate was being cruel to him.
Back then, he and Mikoto had always spent time together, back in the old days of two high schoolers, be it in school, or the bar. And he always enjoyed the warmth that slipped into his heart whenever Mikoto was near him.
His face burned slightly every time their hands brushed against each other. And Izumo finally admitted, I've fallen for this reckless guy…
It was only about two years, though. Two years and then Mikoto was chosen as Red King by the Slate.
Because of the power forced on him, Mikoto changed. And since that, he had always felt Mikoto slowly drift away from him, bringing together his warmth.
Even though they were hardly apart from each other.
Izumo fisted his hair. He lowered his head, hiding his wetting face from no one. A loud gasp was breathed out. For a second, he was calm.
The second most powerful person in HOMRA? In term of power and skills, he probably was. But in fact, he was very weak emotionally. Probably the weakest in entire HOMRA.
It was thanks to his poker face that he was able to mask his feelings from everyone else.
Weary and broken, Izumo lowered his body on the couch. He curled his body to a ball and hid his face with a small cushion.
And in this large apartment, alone, on the couch, with nobody as witness, and for the nth times, Izumo cried his broken heart out.
Suoh Mikoto.
The King of HOMRA.
The lone wolf.
His closest friend.
And forever his unrequited love.
Fin.
A.N: I wonder if I should make another one, focused on Mikoto this time, kinda an answer to Izumo's unrequited feeling. Pffftt, oh, my OTP, what have you done to me…I know this doesn't sound like Izumo, but thanks for reading!