The only thing he could do was watch.
Watch as his Misaki grew further away from him.
Watch, as the abyss in his chest seemed to grow bigger and bigger everyday.
Everything started a few days after the two of them had joined HOMRA together. It had been the start of summer vacation, when Yata Misaki had proclaimed that he wanted to join a gang - HOMRA, to be exact -, and that 'Saru-chan' should join with him.
Fushimi Saruhiko hated the nickname 'Saru-chan', but he tolerated it, just for his Misaki.
Anything for his Misaki.
At first, Fushimi tolerated the seemingly hopeless infatuation Misaki had with HOMRA. The bar, the magic, the 'clansmen', as they were called. And the Red King, Suoh Mikoto; even Fushimi had been awed by the otherworldly powers that the Third King possessed. For two orphaned children such as Fushimi and Yata, HOMRA was the closest thing they could call "family". However, that didn't last long for the sullen teenager.
As time passed from hour to hour, day to day, weeks to weeks, the distance between Fushimi and the rest of his clansmen became painfully obvious. The bluenette kept his distance, while the ginger conversed with everyone and everything. Indeed, a few of the clansmen had attempted to begin a conversation with the bluenette. Kusanagi Izumo, Totsuka Tatara, and even Bandō Saburōta were among the few that had talked to Fushimi.
But even they gave up after a while. And all Fushimi could do was watch as his Misaki found a new home and a new family to love.