One day, a relatively normal day - or maybe just a little too cloudy, Yata's wish suddenly came true. In a way that he didn't understand, didn't quite know how to handle it, and certainly didn't expect it to be so, so, so painful.
So painful for Fushimi.
The day started off as every day's mindless business. Yata ran errand for Homra, ate a bowl of ramen on the way, beat some nameless gangs of punks up, served customers in the restaurant he was working part time job in, and joined his friends in the bar for a relaxing, fun afternoon. It was the life he had lived for years. The life he had lived ever when Fushimi had left.
(It wasn't that it'd be very different if Fushimi stayed with him. But Yata wouldn't have to be constantly reminded that he should have been here, and not over there.)
Homra, too, was as lively as ever, nothing out of sorts. Kamamoto and Kusanagi were talking about the recent issues in a calm, laid back atmosphere. Bandou, Dewa, Chitose, and Akagi were playing some kind of card games. Fujishima was petting of a newly picked stray cat that was clinging to Eric's arms. Mikoto, Totsuka and Anna were staying on the second floor, watching the blond man editing the stocked videos in his camera.
Yata thought everything would go like that without a hitch, just as any other days. However, a very loud bang from the door robbed everyone in the room's attention, signaling someone had just crashed into the it so hard it slammed on the wall.
As all eyes fell on the intruder's figure, Yata's breath lost itself for a spilt second.
"It's the traitor Fushimi! What the fuck do you think you're doing, break into Homra's base just like that? " Someone yelled. Yata didn't know who. He was too taken aback by the sudden appearance of his old partner - no, his enemy wanted to be angry, to yell, to kick the traitor out of his precious Homra, but something gripped him in place and chilled him to the core.
Fushimi looked...different.
The normally proud blue clansman was breathing heavily, sweat damped his white ragged shirt, as if he had run miles and miles to reach the bar. His dark hair was a mess, no trace of the usual fancy style. His eyes were darker than Yata'd never seen, not even when they were fighting to dead, and framed by black - purple circles so large that they could even be mistaken as bruises. All in all, he looked older and tired – like a weary soldier coming back from a pointless long battle. Exhaustion, anger, and helplessness, these were what the aura surrounding Fushimi screamed loud and clear, even Yata could hear it.
Fushimi ignored all the insults and hostile aimed at him and glanced around the bar, desperately searching for something, or someone. And for a moment, Yata felt hope swelled in his chest, praying and praying that something had happened that pushed Fushimi came back to his senses, came back to Homra, and fucking came back to him.
So he risked raising his voice.
"Hey, are you looking for me, damn Saru?."
The reaction Yata received was immediate and eerily unsettling.
"Misaki..." Fushimi widened his dull glacial orbs, whispering so softly that Yata's name sounded almost broken on his pale lips. He walked slowly toward the redhead in a haze, almost like a sleepwalker, with the face of someone who had just seen a ghost.
"Hahhh?! What do you want, monkey?" Yata gulped and asked in the only way he knew, hoping to ease the tension somehow, to not feel so unnerved under the other's gaze. Hurry up and apologize to Mikoto-san so I can forgive you and finally, finally be your friend again. Come on, hurry, come on.
A pair of trembling hands wrapped around Yata's shoulders. The vanguard noted that they felt icy cold even through a layer of fabric. Fushimi looked at him with wobbly orbs, gradually closed their distance but not quite hugging him.
"Yata Misaki, 19, Homra's vanguard?" The taller man spoke through clenched teeth, tone deep and low.
Yata scowled. "Of course, the one and only. Why are you even asking, shitty monkey?"
"Hm..." Fushimi closed his eyes, smiling just a tiny little smile that looked too close to a relieved one. "Just confirming."
Then, as if a switch was flicked inside the blue's third-in-command, fierce flares snapped in dark blue eyes as he swung his hands back harshly and spit out in anger. "Where's Anna?"
Most of Homra's members instantly stood in fighting postures, putting their guard high up, yelling, threatening, ready to burn the traitor to ash if he so much as moved in inch closer to the second floor.
"Upstairs, isn't it? I don't have time to deal with the lot of you. Move."
Yata, shocked by the sudden change of the other's mood, grabbed Fushimi's upper hand tight before any conflict might happen. Kusanagi also helped by signaling his underlings to stop.
"Why", Yata stated slowly, carefully, not like how one talked to small children, but like how one tried to calm a wounded beast, "do you want to meet Anna?"
Why Anna? Aren't you here to meet me? Aren't you going to come back to me, Saru?
Yata flinched when he heard Fushimi's voice dripped with sheer bitter wrath and a tint of...fear? "Let me see Anna. There's no time, Misaki."
"Che, no time for what?" Yata's patience was running thin.
He didn't prepare himself to hear the sorrowful scream that tore out of Fushimi's throat as the latter hang his head low and gripped his messy hair painfully.
"Misaki. Can't waste any second. Misaki! It's the matter of life and death and everything. MISAKI!"
Before Yata could even react, the taller man lashed out and ran toward the stairs with unbelievable speed. However, Fushimi didn't take more than two steps up when he stopped dead at the sight of Mikoto, Totsuka and Anna at the top stair.
One glance at the blue clansman and Anna's scarlet eyes went widen, disbelief written all over her normally expressionless face.
"Saruhiko. But you are... different."
Totsuka and Mikoto raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Yata, who had just reached his ex-friend, also frowned in confusion. The group of five people on the staircases quickly became the center of attention within the bar.
Fushimi nodded at Anna and stepped back to the ground, letting the little girl hurriedly walked down the stairs. The moment Anna's feet touched the floor, the dark haired man kneed down in front of her on one leg in knightly manner, leveling their vision on a perfect straight line.
"Anna. I have a favor to ask of you. It'd take too long to explain, so just look into my mind, okay?"
Excluding Mikoto, the whole Homra gasped. Why, oh why, someone like Fushimi,who'd rather die than speak about himself, allowed his mind to be read. Everything within their knowledge about the traitor stood against his sudden proposal.
Yata took it the hardest.
(Because the feeling he had wasn't surprise, but envy. So easy, Anna had it so easy it's almost mocking.)
He knew he was being childish. Stupid. Selfish. It was life and death matter, for whoever Fushimi referred to, so consulting Anna must be the best and the only solution. Yes, Anna and not Yata.
Never Yata.
(He felt betrayed all over again.)
Anna nodded at Fushimi with only a little hesitance, easing the whole bar quiet. Red marbles began to float around the odd pair while they were locked in their own world through the eyes.
One, two, three seconds passed, and Anna's face twisted lightly as sweat gathered all over her forehead. A mist of uneasiness clouded her expression as she mouthed "No way..." The red marbles abruptly stopped, shaking themselves in the air, threating to fall down. For once, the Homra's princess looked frightened.
Fushimi kept his gaze firmly as he held both of Anna hands, giving them a tiny comforting squeeze.
"Please."
The white haired girl took a deep breath, fingers tightening around Fushimi's, then focused once more. Faint red aura flickered from her small body, mingled with the tranquil azure power coming out of the older man, creating a beautiful glow of violet sparks when their hands connected.
Nine, ten, eleven seconds went by, until Anna shuddered and slumped forward, meeting Fushimi's embrace half-way.
"Saruhiko..."
A pause, then a sigh, finishing with a light pat onto Anna's head.
"Do you understand, Anna?"
"I...", the girl gave Fushimi one last tight gripe, looking up with grim determination, "...understand."
(It made Yata want to laugh to think that somehow it's always Anna who understand everything while he stood there having no idea what was happening to his once best friend. Or had happened. Or ever had been happening.)
"Izumo, please give me the Tokyo city map. The largest one."
Kusanagi, who had been quietly watching, nodded and sought the map in quick efficient movements, not breaking the suffocating silence that was enveloping the bar. Totsuka took the map from the blonde's palm and opened it wide on the floor, at the same time as Anna kneed down and assembled her marbles on the map's surface in a perfect swirling circle.
"Saruhiko. I need your blood."
Fushimi appeared nowhere close to be as disturbed as the rest of Homra were, drawing a knife out and with one swift skillful slit, blood spilt out of the wound on the back of his left hand. The blood drops, however, didn't fall down the map but floated mid-air, freezing into five dark red marbles. As soon as they became solid, they joined the rolling spheres on the ground.
"Do you want to write it down?"
"Don't have time for that. Just read it in the code I told you, I'll remember." Fushimi also moved to knee over the other side of map, facing the young strain. "Hurry."
"Okay. The first one is...3214-0903-523596341-986231442, then 3123-1002-523582134-..."
Anna spoke the long strings of numbers in her usual steady, monotonous voice with amazing speed, as utterly concentrated in the endlessly moving marbles just as Fushimi listened to her. Everyone in Homra looked at the pair in shock, even Kusanagi who was familiar with coding information, feeling way more than a little overwhelmed.
Everyone but Yata, who recognized the code as the one pulling Fushimi and him together when they had been just two young, adventurous kids against the world . Even though he still didn't understand these difficult digits even now, hearing them brought a nostalgic feeling so warm that it almost hurt deep in his chest.
No noise other than the constant streams of numbers was heard for nearly ten minutes. The tension was so thick the Homra's members thought they was sitting near a ticking time bomb so close to the explosion time.
"...4-2100-213312498-642633...whoaa!"
A marble cracked and stopped abruptly in mid-movement, crashing with other rolling marbles and sending some of them fly away harshly. One of the spheres made of Fushimi's blood shook violently and evaporated into green smoke. The rest of them either bounced up and down in every direction or emitted moss-like gas.
Fushimi slammed a fist hard onto the floor, growling in unmistakable outrage.
"Wha-What happened?" Totsuka wrapped his hands around Anna protectively, shielding her from the rebellious red orbs. At the same time, Yata pulled Fushimi backward into his chest to prevent further damage for the raven head. Mikoto frowned and released his power, burning the offensive marbles with a snap of fingers.
The chaos ended as suddenly as it started, all the marbles burst into small flames for two seconds before crumbling into ashes.
"I'm sorry, Saruhiko. I couldn't catch the last one." Anna mumbled weakly. It wasn't like her to appear so...regretful, but then again, nothing about the current situation was normal.
"No, it's alright. It's enough. Thank you."
Yata felt the body he was holding tensed up, ready to go yet didn't move an inch, as if Fushimi was torn between staying in Yata's arms and fighting his way out. Hope climbed on the redhead's mind again as he unconsciously tugged Fushimi closer.
"Misaki, I have to go."
"T-Tell me what's happening first! Hah, you're doing some frigging dangerous stuff, right?"
"Let me go, Misaki, before I'm running out of time."
"Are you chasing an insanely powerful strain or what? Why're you going by yourself? What the fuck are the Monkey King of yours even doing?" Yata didn't even notice he was yelling. He didn't know why he desperately wanted to hold Fushimi back – it's just that his intuition smelled something awfully wrong.
"Saruhiko. I want to help. Homra can help." Said the Homra's princess, even though her eyes were down casted in sadness.
"I can handle it." The blue clansman spit out a laugh, finally made up his mind and freed himself from Yata's grip.
"Even so."
"No. No one but me. Anna, thank you. Goodbye."
"Wait, Saru!" Don't leave. Not again. "Don't look down on Homra! W-We can do everything, unlike you fucking useless blues. Strain hunting, right? Piece of cake. I will go with you!"
"You're not going anywhere. Stay here like a nice dog you are." Fushimi was already running out of the door. "I...will be back to you when I'm done, I promise. So don't run around doing unnecessary things."
- Back to you - Yata stopped dead in his track. Back to you. Promise.
(Back to me.)
Don't run around. Stay. And he'll come back to me. He fucking promised.
Yata barely felt Anna's small hand squeezing the fringe of his shirt, silently telling him to do as Fushimi said.
"Fuck you Saru! I'm not a dog!"
Despite knowing something terrible was definitely going on, he couldn't help but smile.
.
.
Three days later, the bar of Homra was graced with another uninvited guest once again, this time was the blue king himself.
"What is it this time...?" Mikoto sighed in bored attitude as always, even though the somber gleam in his golden eyes told another tale. Yata, who was playing with his PDA next to the king and Anna, glared at the Scepter 4's captain with a hostile snarl.
Munakata wasn't in playful mood either, cutting right to the chase without any of his usual sarcasm. "I'm here in regard of Fushimi - kun."
"Hah, that shitty lying monkey! What the fuck is he even doing? What the fuck are you forcing him to do?"
Yata had his reasons to be angry. Very good ones, to be honest. Because it had been three days since that damn Fushimi dumped a bomb onto him and still hadn't come back. Not even a word. Yata couldn't pry anything from Anna either. The girl refused to talk about the mysterious encounter with Fushimi, keeping their exchange exist solely in their minds.
Munakata ignored the vanguard's outburst.
"Fushimi – kun has always been acting on his own pace with his own reasons, marking him an interesting puzzle that I love to handle. I believed I'd managed to keep him in rightful place, more or less, until three days ago. Fushimi – kun has been acting very strange after the little visit he paid to Homra."
So I was right. A shudder ran through Yata's body, all the way from his nape to his fingertips.
Kusanagi rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Indeed. From a...reliable source I've gotten my hand on, it seems like Fushimi has been causing a lot of trouble to random gangs and strains for unknown reasons."
"What! Kusanagi – san, you know? Why don't you tell me?"
"Sorry Yata – chan, I don't want you to worry and go after him, creating even bigger fuss than it already is."
"It's unfair! Why...Why am I the only one who never know anything?"
If anyone noticed the way his voice choked, they don't comment on it. Yata should feel more grateful if he wasn't so pissed off.
"Please allow me to give you the bigger picture before asking for your sincerely cooperation." Munakata took a seat in opposite of Mikoto without a second thought. Apparently the concern he had for his subordinate (or only his favorite one, Yata bitterly remarked) was stronger than the strained rivalship between two mismatched kings. "From the report I got from Awashima - kun, three days ago, the special unit under Fushimi – kun's control had a mission at the northern area to capture an B-level strain, whose power was close-ranged telekinesis. Everything went smoothly until at 4:08 p.m., smoke suddenly surrounded Fushimi – kun and he vanished within seconds."
"V-Vanished?"
"Undoubtedly. All the witnesses confirmed the same."
Kusanagi tapped his fingers on the bar counter. "But he came back."
"He did. Only five minutes after the phenomenon, Fushimi – kun appeared again at the exact spot, dropping from mid-air. However, he acted very strange. He pushed the mission aside and forcefully robbed the PDA of one of his subordinate, then immediately dashed away at full speed. Our tracking device showed that he ran all the way to Homra. Awashima - kun found the situation odd, so she ordered some men followed Fushimi – kun. However, by the time they came here, Fushimi – kun had gone and also had gotten rid of the PDA. We couldn't locate him for the rest of the day."
Yata gulped nervously. He didn't understand one bit – disappear, come back, run to Homra, ask Anna for someone's locations, spill about life and death matter, run off to who-no-where again, cause troubles. Just what was his ex-friend doing?
"Fushimi – kun returned the morning after only to search our whole information system in feverish attitude, refusing to say anything at all, even to me. It's a shame for me to admit, but I cannot see through him, or trick him into telling what's on his mind like I had always done before. From then on, Fushimi – kun had been going on and off to arrest a bunch of criminals and strains. Even though most of them truly had done something worth being arrested, Fushimi – kun's behaviors are unexplainable."
Kusanagi chimed in. "I also heard that he got a whole lot more violent than ever before."
"Yes, that's what worries me the most. Fushimi – kun almost killed two particular people, who pretty much just put amazing effort in self-defense."
Yata sprang up full height, yelling in utter horror. "Kill? Saru...despite his asshole twisted personality and bad habit of throwing knives and obsession for blood and flesh, he isn't someone who just kills for no reason!"
Even Mikoto nodded in silent agreement.
"Fushimi – kun doesn't have to be charged for murder because the two victims are not dead, and they're wanted dangerous criminals. However, they are absolutely unable to lead the life they've been living. As a king and Scepter 4's captain, I ought to take responsibility over my clansman, and I'm determined to find out the truth behind his sudden change. Now, I believe I've covered my share of the story. Let yours be heard."
All members of Homra in presence glanced at Anna, who had been quiet all the while. Anna bit her lower lip, shoulders tensed up and trembled, and very unlike her, shifted her gaze to Kusanagi, nodding lightly.
The blond bartender took the hint and brought it upon himself to relate what happened. He ended it with a nod toward the Homra princess. "And she doesn't tell a word, either."
Anna whispered softly. "I'm sorry. Saruhiko directly told me not to."
There was a long pause until the blue king widened his eyes as if he had figured out everything, then let out a sad smile and nodded to Anna.
"It's rather helpful, Anna. I have a few theories, thank to your side of information. I understand Fushimi wished to handle everything by himself, while I believe in his capability, I don't think the Fushimi we're talking about now deserves the tragedy he will probably embrace, or has been embracing."
Yata would have impressed greatly if not for him being too shocked and worried. "What do you mean, tragedy?"
"As expected of a genius like you, huh... Won't you spill out your theories already?" Mikoto sighed.
Munakata and Anna looked at each other, then shook their heads at the same time. Anna brought her hand onto Yata's shirt, tugging him a little forward.
"Only Misaki."
Munakata smiled. "Take good care of my third-in-command, Yatagarasu."
Before Yata got himself together enough to bark an insult even in his haze of dumbfounding, Munakata had got up and bid the red king and Anna goodbye.
.
.
Though Yata said he was getting impatient for Fushimi to fulfill his promise, he didn't quite expect to be greeted by the blue clansman in his apartment that night.
Fushimi looked even worse than the last time the vanguard saw him. All anger, hatred or confusion in Yata melted away at the sight of Fushimi sprawling out on his couch.
"Great to see you, Misaki."
"I don't even want to know how you can get into my house. I feel like I should beat you up or shout at you right now, but really, it'd be a waste of energy." He smiled fondly.
"Hm." Fushimi made no retort, just waved him on. "I want to see you. Come here."
Maybe it was the surprisingly gentle in Fushimi's eyes, or perhaps the soft, melodic tone in his voice, but Yata found himself unable to refuse. Skipping over half the room, Yata flopped down the couch rather ungracefully.
"You really never change, huh."
"Said someone who has changed so much, monkey."
"Hm."
A pair of cold hands sneaked around Yata's body, moving him a bit so he somehow sat in between Fushimi's legs with his back rested against the taller man's chest. Blood rushed into Yata's face faster than the speed of light.
"What the fuck, Saru !"
"I'm cold. Be my personal human heater, Misaki."
"Have you finally gone bat-shit crazy? Let me go!"
"Just a few minutes." Fushimi nudged Yata's shoulder, sounding a little sleepy. "Please."
"You bastard..."
Yata secretly released his power just a tiny bit, increasing his body temperature to get the other more comfortable.
I don't understand anything, but he's really come back. The old gentle Saruhiko...
But he knew it wasn't the case.
Why are you acting this way? They said you almost killed people. Saru, how could you even do that when you're being this tender?
You're back, but somehow you're also a million miles further away.
I wish I can understand you. Why you left. Why you came back.
(Not understand hurts, Saru.)
Tell me.
"Neh, Saru. Tell me why you're acting so weird? Why...why do you suddenly want to be my comrade again, after everything?"
Silence met his question. Yata glanced back only to find his friend (friend, right? That's what they are now, isn't it?) sound asleep. He sighed and leant back into the loose embrace, contented enough to feel sleepy himself.
.
.
Fushimi had gone by the time Yata woke up.
In the afternoon, Kusanagi informed him that Fushimi hadn't come to Scepter 4's headquarter that day.
At 4 p.m., he received a message from the blue clansman, telling him to not set a foot outside the bar until tomorrow come.
Anna also told him to stay.
.
.
Yata of course didn't listen. He didn't bring his personal stuff after all.
And he was strong, being Homra's vanguard.
Fushimi's warning was unnecessary, he thought smugly.
He sneaked out when Anna fell asleep.
.
.
The night was colder than he thought. He couldn't feel his hands.
Nor his legs.
They were numb.
And hurt.
And drained of blood.
(Was it raining?)
.
.
"Stupid, stupid Misaki. Wake up. I know you're not dead. Wake up now!"
Someone was crying.
"Misaki, I'm on time. I know it. Wake up. Please, please don't do this to me again. Misaki... Misaki, Misaki!"
Don't cry.
Yata forced himself to open his eyes. His vision was blurred.
.
.
"Good morning...Saru."
The hands wrapping around on his torso tightened. Teary blue eyes met his own hazel ones, happiness and relief brimming in them.
"It's 3 a.m. But yes, morning to you too, sleepy head."
"What happened?"
"You're attacked by some powerful underground gangs that Homra shouldn't get involved with. But the whole lot of you are idiots who run straight into trouble anyway."
"Heh..."
"You'll be alright from now on, Misaki. I've dealt with them. You'll be fine, your injuries weren't that bad."
It's true. The pain was beginning to subside. Yata could feel his senses sharpening again slowly. Vision was the first thing he got back.
And the first sight Yata saw was Fushimi drenched in blood and raindrops, surrounding by several bloody bodies.
"You killed them..." Yata jerked, eyes widened at the horrible display.
Fushimi grit his teeth and choked out, burrying his head into Yata's shoulder. "No, they're alive even just barely. I have to. They are going to kill you, Misaki. I can't...I almost lost you. No, I'd lost you, and I was about to lost you again."
What are you talking about, Saru.
"Hey, Saru."
"...What?"
"I want to tell you a secret." Yata wasn't even sure why he deemed it was the perfect time to tell this. "You're my first love."
Fushimi stared at him. Yata smiled and kept talking.
"I had a really bad crush on you back from middle school, you know, up all the way to the days we were in Homra together. I still have it now, even after your betrayal and everything."
"Stop, Misaki. You're being delirious."
"I'm not. Listen, Saru, you're deserved to be loved, okay? Let yourself be loved. I love you."
"Don't."
"I love you. I want to understand you. It's my deepest secret. So...Saruhiko, it's your turn. Tell me a secret."
Yata brought his hands to Fushimi's bloodstained cheeks, gently raised his head closer and put a chaste kiss on the other's forehead.
"I..." Fushimi raised his own hands to hold Yata's, trembling in violent waves. "I've come from a very, very sad future."
The rain was getting stronger.
.
.
Fushimi was soaked by blood, by rain, and by tears. He looked like he was melted away, like an exhausted candle. Yata couldn't help but cling to Fushimi, afraid that the thin shaking body would really give in and leak away through his fingers.
"You're supposed to die today, Misaki. I've come from the future inwhich you died and left me alone. I've lived five years without you, and it's a terrible life."
"Saruhiko..."
"Not a day passed without me thinking about you, wanting nothing but to meet you just once more time. The regret was unbearable. Misaki, you don't understand, it hurts so, so much. Everyday."
More tears dropped between them. Yata barely recognized they were his.
"And then I got an unbelievable opportunity. I captured a strain who had the power of travelling time and space. I forced her to bring me here. I'm betting everything in exchange for a chance to repair the past. I cleared everything that should bring you harm."
"Heh...you did it. You saved me."
"Yes, I saved you, just in time. You're alive now. So you and your rightful Saruhiko can finally be happy."
Yata jerked back. "What? What do you mean?"
Fushimi's eyes were like stormy ocean at night.
"I realized...that the past can't be changed. This is not my universe, you're Misaki, but not my Misaki."
He laughed, face contorted as if his words were bitter poison.
"My Misaki was dead. In this very moment."
"Saruhiko...I'm..."
"I'll be back to my true timeline soon, five years after your death. My world won't change since everything had happened already."
"Why...Why did you save me even though you'll be back to your world again? Why did you even go such length to do it? You betrayed me, told me you hated my guts, and now...you're here, against fate itself for me! WHY?"
A breathless laugh, as shatter as a broken mirror.
"If I know that somewhere you're alive and well, it's enough. The me in this universe would be grateful for having you. He would treat you well, would tell you about the whole betrayal mess and fix everything. You would be happy. I know it. So it's enough."
It was hard to breathe. Fushimi was embracing him so close. Yata dug his head into Fushimi's chest and let out a painful sob, trying desperately to share even a tiny fraction of the crushing tragedy that the other man was shouldering. His vision filled with dark red – the shade of blood, and for a moment he hated that color so much.
"I have to bid you goodbye now. Misaki. Please, give me just one last smile."
Smoke began to surround Fushimi as Yata felt his grip slipping. Swallowing his cry, Yata looked into the fading man's eyes and smiled his brightest smile with quivering lips.
"Thank you. Saruhiko. Take care of yourself, for both me and your Misaki."
And with a strong gust of wind, Fushimi vanished, leaving Yata holding on nothing but leftover smoke. He collapsed on the ground, crying, and praying, and waiting for his Saruhiko to come back.
One, two, three. He counted the seconds. Nine, ten, eleven.
The rain didn't stop.
One hundred, one hundred and one, one hundred and two.
Yata felt light-headed. The blood loss was getting to him. Yet he still kept counting.
Five hundred and thirty six, five hundred and thirty seven, five hundred and thirty eight.
If it got this painful to exist in the world without Saruhiko for five hundred and thirty nine seconds, Yata thought, he can't even image how it would be for the other Saruhiko. Five years, and forever.
Hurry up and come back. Come on.
Six hundred and seventy four. Six hundred and seventy five.
The wind came up and messed his hair. A thunder roared. And then, the air above him flashed and split, throwing a stunned Fushimi onto him.
"M-Misaki !?"
Yata smiled. "Hey. Welcome back, Saru."
"Misaki!" Fushimi, his true Fushimi, pulled him into his chest into a tight hug. "You're here. You're alive. Oh God, Misaki, I've come to a very scary future."
"I know. It's okay now, Saru. I'm fine. It won't become our future."
Fushimi whispered between harsh short pants. "I almost lost you. I almost lost everything."
"Hah, well, you better be good and honest with me from now on, huh. Who knows what the future will bring?"
"Don't talk about it."
"Hm. Deal?" Yata raised a fist and laughed, just like old time.
Fushimi looked reluctant for a few seconds, then sighed, accepting the fists bump ritual with a fond smile. "Deal."
"How about starting with explaining the whole betrayal mess?"
"Tsk. How about bandaging you up?"
"No worming your way out, shitty monkey."
"And cleaning this bloody battlefield."
"Well, the other you is even more violent than you when it comes to fighting, huh."
"...He must be a sad man."
"...Yeah. Indeed he is."
Fushimi carried the redhead up, bride – style so his injuries wouldn't be pressed anywhere, ignoring any protest. The tensed shoulders gave away how stressed and frightened he truly felt after travelling into the alternative future.
"I'll treasure you in his place. Lesson learnt, the hardest way possible."
"Heh. Figure it must take a hard blow for you to stop being a jerk."
"I have half a mind to drop you on your ass right now, Misaki."
"...Hey, Saru."
"Hm?"
"If I tell you my secret, will you tell me yours?"
"...Depends."
"Gzee. Whatever, I'll go first. You see, Saru, I love you."