VII. Tattoo (side Fushimi)
Fushimi sat on his bunk in the Red Division barracks, flipping through a book of strategy that he had stopped reading about twenty pages ago.
Misaki was gone, off spending time with some of the other soldiers. He'd made some stupid noise about Fushimi coming along as well, since the party for 'for him too,' and Fushimi had declined with a click of his tongue. He didn't see the point in spending any more time with their fellow recruits than absolutely necessary.
It had been nearly a year and a half now, since they'd joined the army. They'd finally graduated from being trainees a little over six months ago and given up their private room in the trainee barracks for the more crowded general division quarters. The two of them still shared a bed of course, Fushimi on the top bunk and Yata below, but there were six others packed into the room with them and it made Fushimi feel constantly closed in and on edge.
He didn't belong, that was all.
Fushimi turned another page, eyes blankly skimming the words. Kusanagi had given the books to him one day after watching him at training, saying something about how Fushimi might appreciate them. He hadn't said anything more but Fushimi could sense the undertone there, the obvious reasons that Kusanagi was apparently too polite to state.
It had been clear from the start, after all, and Fushimi wondered sometimes if he'd known it from the moment they'd set foot in camp. He wasn't like the rest of them – too skinny, too pale, too weak. When the soldier overseeing their morning training gave orders to run laps Fushimi was always last, breathing hard by the time he finished. Whenever they were timed on the obstacle course Fushimi was always the one who could only finish by cheating his way through, sneaking around the obstacles he wasn't quite strong enough to climb. The other trainees had mocked him for it at the time, wondered what he was even doing in the army in the first place.
Misaki had threatened to beat up anyone he heard saying such things out loud, of course, and was disciplined twice a week for his trouble. Even now, with the two of them having graduated to full members of the Division, Misaki was still constantly having to yell and bluster at anyone who dared to hint at the truth Misaki was the only one too stupid to see.
The strategy books had clearly been Kusanagi's way of trying to compensate for the fact that he'd let someone entirely unsuited into the Red Division without even bothering to vet him first. Misaki had fit in just fine – always the fastest at running laps, always able to climb any obstacle placed in front of him. The only place where Fushimi excelled was in firearms training, his shooting faster and more accurate than anyone's. Kusanagi had given him special dispensation to carry two pistols rather than the single one that was regulation and Fushimi had kept hold of the old pistol he'd rescued from the trash dump along with the one issued to him by the army.
Strategy was his other specialty, and Fushimi knew full well how useless that was in a division that relied almost solely on brute strength the way the Reds did. Sure, there was Kusanagi himself, the man who clearly ran the entire Division despite Suoh Mikoto's title of 'Captain,' but it wasn't like they had any need for a second strategist on top of what Kusanagi was already handling. Fushimi had no illusions about that, no matter how hard Misaki tried to make it seem as if Fushimi's mind was an asset to their Division and not just another thing that marked him out as different from all the rest.
That was what Misaki was celebrating at the moment, in fact, and Fushimi felt his lip curl. There had been a mock battle set up on the training grounds the day before, the Red Division troops split into two teams and watched over by one of the members of Homra. Misaki had of course been one of the first picked for a team and had insisted that they choose Fushimi as well. As if he expected Fushimi to be thankful for that, as if he thought Fushimi needed to be chosen out of some misplaced feeling of pity so that he wouldn't inevitably be the last soldier standing around without a team.
He'd been dragged onto Misaki's team anyway and had easily come up with a decent strategy for taking down their opponents. They'd won with relative ease after that and Misaki hadn't been able to stop talking about, about how Saruhiko had won the day for them.
Hadn't been able to stop talking about it, until Suoh Mikoto walked by.
The page tore in Fushimi's hand and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, closing the book and laying his head down on his pillow.
It wasn't the same now. It wasn't that it bothered him exactly – as though he cared where Misaki's gaze went to. He didn't need such things, didn't need those eyes and that voice to make him feel as though he was worth something. That Misaki's eyes only went to Mikoto now, that Fushimi could be forgotten so easily the moment Suoh Mikoto appeared, that was nothing.
But Fushimi could feel it the strongest when Mikoto was near, how deeply he didn't belong here. When Misaki looked at Mikoto his eyes would brighten and he would start talking about how cool Mikoto was, how strong, how much of a hero their 'Captain' was. When Fushimi looked at Mikoto all he could see was darkness and flames and the maw of a lion bearing down upon him. As they'd stood there together celebrating their victory in the mock battle Fushimi had almost felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips and then Mikoto had walked by, expression flat as always as he congratulated their winning team. The rest of the troops had stood up a little straighter and Misaki had run forward to tell Mikoto all about how the battle had gone. Fushimi had remained alone off to the side, trying to keep his hands from shaking.
"Fushimi? Are you still here?" He heard a voice calling his name and Fushimi grimaced, pulling his blanket over his head as if that could help him disappear. It didn't help, and Totsuka's smiling face appeared over the edge of the bed anyway.
"What do you want?" Fushimi's tone was dull and sulky and he didn't bother to hide his irritation at Totsuka's presence. Totsuka's smile didn't waver in the least.
"I was looking for you," Totsuka said. "I passed Yata talking with Kamamoto and the others. I'm surprised you weren't celebrating with them."
"I was tired." Fushimi shrugged, not meeting his eyes. Kamamoto had been the Homra member in charge of overseeing the mock battle. He had also recognized Misaki the first time they'd met, saying something stupid about being in the same orphanage. Fushimi had ignored it at the time but then that fatty had started calling Misaki 'Yata-san' all the time and the rest of the troops had started staring at him like he was some kind of amazing person and not just the same stupid Misaki who Fushimi had always had to drag around everywhere to keep him from getting himself into trouble.
"I'm getting ready to go down to the city to run some errands," Totsuka continued, undaunted by Fushimi's lack of response. "I thought you might want to come with me."
Fushimi glared down at him. Totsuka stared back calmly and Fushimi sighed as he sat up.
"You two have been working hard lately, huh?" Totsuka said conversationally as they walked across the base towards the gates. "Kusanagi-san said he's heard good things about your progress from the squad leaders."
"I guess." Fushimi shrugged, noncommittal. He knew that Kusanagi occasionally looked in on them, showing up to watch during training and sometimes even during nearby missions. Mikoto showed up somewhat less often, usually looking as though he'd just rolled out of bed and happened to stumble across their unit while still half-asleep.
(And there was the other person too, who Fushimi had spotted hovering around the edges of the training grounds from time to time. A man in glasses with a blue armband around his upper arm and a jacket as decorated as Mikoto's. Fushimi had never spoken with Munakata Reisi, the Captain of the Blue Division, and he had no idea why the man always seemed to be staring straight at him whenever Fushimi managed to catch a glimpse of him. It made him feel on edge somehow, as if Munakata was seeing something that even Fushimi himself wasn't yet aware of, and he didn't like it.)
"Yata told me you won them the mock battle," Totsuka continued, waving their way out the gates. Fushimi's hands twitched slightly, suddenly cold, and he shoved them into his pockets. "You're good with strategy, right?"
"Our opponents were idiots," Fushimi said dismissively. Totsuka's smile seemed to shake just a bit, tightening, and there was a darkness to his eyes that made Fushimi wonder if he'd said something wrong.
"Were they?" Totsuka's voice was still light. "Is that what you really think, Fushimi?"
"Isn't it true, though?" Fushimi challenged. "They attacked with no battle formation and no strategy except attempting to overwhelm us with brute strength. It wasn't hard to see through."
"Maybe," Totsuka said, always the mediator. "But you know, Fushimi, I think they did make a plan. It just wasn't as complicated as the one you had in mind. And that's not always a bad thing. I think it's good, that you can think of ideas other people don't."
You don't need to patronize me. The words were on the tip of his tongue and Fushimi swallowed them down. Totsuka was still watching him with an almost gentle smile and it made him want to reach for one of the pistols at his waist, feel the burst of confidence that always went through him whenever he held a weapon.
"What are we even doing here anyway?" Fushimi changed the subject instead, raising his head a little as they entered Shizume City.
"I just need to pick up a few things," Totsuka said.
"You didn't need me for that though, right?"
"I thought Fushimi might like a change of scenery," Totsuka said brightly and Fushimi gave him a withering glare.
"I'm fine," he said coldly. "I don't need you to play babysitter."
"Isn't it nice to spend time with people sometimes, though?" Totsuka said serenely. "And I really did want you to come with me today. Ah, Anna-chan!" He stopped and waved, and Fushimi's frown deepened as he caught sight of Anna's familiar form running through the crowd.
"Tatara. Saruhiko." She glanced over at him, her doll-like face quiet and thoughtful, and Fushimi looked away. He didn't have anything against her, of course. It just made him uncomfortable sometimes, the way she looked at him.
"Well, now that we're all here." Totsuka clapped his hands together. "Let's do some shopping!"
–
I want to go back. Two hours later Fushimi trudged along behind Totsuka and Anna, dragging three bags worth of packages that Totsuka had picked up from various stores throughout the city. Every time it seemed like they were finished Totsuka would suddenly remember 'one more thing' that he needed to get and the whole thing would start all over again.
"We're almost done, Fushimi," Totsuka said encouragingly, glancing back at him. "I just need to get this last thing for King and we can head back."
"Tch." Fushimi clicked his tongue rather than bother to reply, shooting Totsuka a glare that was summarily ignored.
"Here we are, last stop." Totsuka knocked once on the wooden door in front of them and then easily pushed his way inside. Fushimi sighed and began to follow, not even looking up as he stepped through the doorway.
Darkness stretched in front of him and Fushimi realized that they had walked through a side door of the railway station. Totsuka's boots echoed easily along the wide corridors but Fushimi could barely hear them, a rush of sound suddenly flooding his ears.
Not now. Fushimi grit his teeth even as his legs began to shake. He didn't need this, not again. He wasn't a child hiding in a cellar anymore, there was no need to be afraid of places where he couldn't see the sky. But looking at the dimly lit corridor in front of him all he could hear was flames roaring in his ears and that person laughing, and there was a sudden sharp pain above his eye where anyone who looked closely could see the small scattering of marks where he'd been burned at the factory.
The next thing he knew he was sitting on the steps outside the station, head in his hands as he tried to slow his breathing. Fushimi couldn't even remember turning around much less walking back through the door and his breath stuttered out in short gasps. He felt a soft hand on his shoulder and looked up.
"It's all right." Anna stood beside him and Fushimi laughed bitterly.
"Shouldn't you be with Totsuka-san?"
"Tatara went on ahead." Anna sat down on the steps next to him. Fushimi waited for her to say something about what had happened but she remained silent, staring straight ahead at nothing.
"I didn't turn around because I was afraid," Fushimi said at last, after they had sat there in silence for too long. He knew there was no need to justify himself to Suoh Mikoto's little sister of all people but somehow he felt like he had to say something.
"Mmm." Anna nodded. "Is Saruhiko okay now?"
"I'm fine." The words were harsh and cold, the automatic lie he was all but daring her to call him out on.
"Saruhiko is strong," Anna said, not really an agreement but not a disagreement either. There was a red marble in her palm and she passed it absently from hand to hand. "It doesn't hurt anymore?"
"No." Fushimi leaned back to look up at the clouds. "It doesn't."
"It's all right," Anna said after a moment. "Tatara won't tell anyone if you don't want him to."
"I don't need him fussing over me," Fushimi said darkly. "I don't need any of you treating me like there's something wrong with me."
Anna turned to look at him then, holding the marble up to one eye.
"The dark place isn't there anymore," she said softly. "But Saruhiko is still looking for the way out."
Fushimi's eyes widened slightly and he stared back at her, mouth open but unable to pull up even a mocking retort in response to her words.
"Anna, Fushimi! There you are!" Totsuka's return spared him from having to reply.
"Mikoto." Anna quickly got to her feet and Fushimi flinched slightly as he realized that Totsuka wasn't alone. Suoh Mikoto was walking beside him, smoking a cigarette and carrying the bags Fushimi had dropped when he'd fled the dark corridor. Mikoto smiled slightly as Anna ran up to him and took his free hand.
"Fushimi was just keeping Anna company," Totsuka said in offhand tones and Fushimi glared at him. He didn't need Totsuka to cover for him, to try and make him look good in front of Mikoto as if that was something Fushimi cared about at all. "I ran into King at the shop and thought we could all go back together!"
Fushimi was suddenly uncomfortably aware of Mikoto's gaze on him and he quickly looked away.
"Let's go back already. Don't we have drills this afternoon?" Fushimi muttered under his breath and Totsuka laughed sheepishly.
"Right, sorry for keeping you. We'd better head back now, Kusanagi-san's probably waiting for us." Totsuka patted Anna on the head and began to lead the way back through the streets. Fushimi's brow furrowed slightly in confusion at the last remark but he let it pass and followed after, skulking alone in the back behind Anna and Mikoto.
They dropped Anna back off at her house before making their way towards the base. As they left Anna's house Fushimi briefly caught sight of the kid who'd once stolen Yata's wallet staring at them from the other side of the street and he placed a significant hand on the holster of one of the pistols at his side. The kid made a face and immediately ducked down an alley. Totsuka gave Fushimi a slightly concerned look but said nothing.
Misaki was waiting for them by the gates when they got back. He ran towards them as the base came into view, waving one hand.
"Mikoto-san! Saruhiko!" Misaki seemed a bit breathless as he stumbled to a stop. "Where have you guys been? Kusanagi-san was about to send me to find you."
"King and Fushimi were helping me with a few errands," Totsuka said easily. "But good timing, Yata! Come along with us for a minute. We'll all go see Kusanagi-san together."
Misaki looked at Fushimi curiously and he shrugged in reply. Who ever knew what Totsuka was thinking.
"You're so lucky, Saruhiko." Misaki leaned in towards him as they followed Totsuka and Mikoto past the Red Division's main barracks. "You got to hang out with Mikoto-san! You should've come and found me too."
"Maybe if you hadn't been out with all those idiots," Fushimi muttered under his breath.
"Hmm? What'd you say, Saruhiko?"
"Nothing."
Totsuka led them into a building Fushimi recognized as Homra's barracks and thus the Red Division's main base of operations. Kusanagi was waiting for them inside the Red Division's war room, standing behind a desk and looking a bit ragged. He gave Totsuka and Mikoto a slightly exasperated sigh as they came in.
"There you are. Didn't I send you to get Fushimi hours ago?"
"Sorry, sorry. Fushimi and I were having so much fun I lost track of the time," Totsuka said with a sheepish laugh.
"What's going on Kusanagi-san?" Misaki glanced curiously from Mikoto to Kusanagi and back again.
"You two have been doing pretty well in the new recruits squad lately," Kusanagi said. "I heard the mock battle went well."
"Yeah, we kicked their asses," Misaki said proudly, a slight flush on his cheeks as he glanced furtively at Mikoto. "Me and Saruhiko took those other guys down like it was nothing."
'Me and Saruhiko,' huh? Fushimi felt his stomach twist just a bit, the words that once would have filled him with confidence sounding hollow and flat to his ears, like words recited in a play. That Misaki meant them, or thought he meant them, was nothing. It wasn't the same.
"So Mikoto and I have been thinkin' about this for a while," Kusanagi said. "I'll admit, I wasn't sure about draggin' two kids from who knows where into this thing. But you two have proved yourselves again and again, and I think you've earned it."
"'Earned?'" Misaki repeated blankly and Mikoto stepped forward and extended a hand towards them.
"We want you two to be part of Homra," Kusanagi said simply and Misaki's entire face changed, eyes brightening and mouth going wide, almost shaking with enthusiasm as he looked over at Fushimi.
"Wait, really? Both of us?" Misaki said, all hushed disbelief, and Fushimi bit back a grimace. Of course he should be shocked, that they would drag a dead weight like Fushimi into the Red Division's most elite unit.
"You've both been valuable members of the Red Division, right?" Totsuka said with a smile. "Congratulations, Yata, Fushimi."
Misaki's face broke into a wide grin, bright as a light in a darkened tunnel, and he reached his hand towards Mikoto's. His eyes were shining and fixed solely on the Red Division's Captain, never wavering.
Fushimi clenched his fist and stood there in silence.
–
Homra's mark itched.
Fushimi walked through camp with his eyes cast downward, arms filled with papers Kusanagi had asked him to go file in the registrar's office. The fresh tattoo on his chest itched and burned but he didn't have a free hand to scratch at it.
Mikoto had chosen the spot, as he apparently did for all members of Homra. Totsuka had said it was voluntary of course, that no one had to get the tattoo – brand, his mind whispered, and he shoved the thoughts away – unless they wanted to. But Misaki had been so eager, staring at Fushimi as he chatted brightly about where Mikoto might choose to put theirs, about how amazing it was going to be for them both.
Mikoto had placed both their tattoos in the same spot. Fushimi had no idea why and judging from Kusanagi's expression afterward it wasn't something that had been done before. Misaki had been excited, though.
"It means we're partners, right?" Fushimi had almost believed the words then, the blood pounding in his ears as Misaki turned and looked at him and smiled. Had almost believed them when Misaki placed a fist on his chest right above the mark and talked about it again, that 'you and me,' as if nothing had changed.
Then they'd been dragged into Homra's barracks, where everyone lived packed together in a ridiculous little family commune. There was an empty set of beds along the far wall away from everyone else but Misaki had chosen one right in the middle of everything instead, hadn't even looked to Fushimi to see his opinion, had only assumed that he would follow regardless. And then Misaki had spent all night talking with Homra's members, talking and laughing and exchanging stories while Fushimi sat in the top bunk looking down.
That was when the tattoo had begun to itch, and it hadn't stopped since.
All of a sudden Fushimi stumbled over something he couldn't see and with a grunt of annoyance he fell hard onto the ground, papers scattering everywhere.
"Oh, my apologies."
"What the hell was that about, pay attention to where you're going next time," Fushimi muttered irritably as he tried to collect the papers. The person he'd run into immediately crouched down beside him and Fushimi's mind suddenly registered the telltale blue armband of the Blue Division and the Captain's stripes on the familiar uniform. Fushimi ducked his head and added a half-hearted "...sir."
"No, no, I believe the fault was mine. You are uninjured, I hope?" Munakata Reisi's voice was calm but there was something beneath the veneer of politeness that made Fushimi's nerves go taut suddenly, on alert. Munakata seemed to notice the slight change in demeanor and though his expression never wavered Fushimi had the definite sense that he was pleased.
"I'm fine." Fushimi clicked his tongue as he started to gather up the fallen reports, trying to ignore the heaviness of Munakata's gaze.
"Please, allow me." Munakata reached over to help him. "How unusual to see one of the Red Division in this section of the base."
"It can't be helped, can it? Someone has to deliver the expense report." Fushimi kept his voice clipped and short, wanting to leave as soon as possible.
"And it seems you have been delegated to this task, Fushimi Saruhiko-kun," Munakata said calmly. Fushimi paused and eyed him suspiciously, and Munakata only laughed in reply. "I make it my business to know all the members of each division. Particularly those who are also members of the elite squad."
"Creepy," Fushimi muttered under his breath, reaching for the last paper. Munakata's hand moved at the same time, brushing against his, and Fushimi froze.
"Of course, I must admit I have an ulterior motive for knowing your name," Munakata continued. His tone was conversational, almost friendly, but there was a definite seriousness behind it that did nothing to make Fushimi less on edge. "You seem to be rather out of place among Suoh's men."
"Tch." You think I don't know that. Fushimi looked down abruptly, not even bothering to give a proper answer.
"Nonetheless, you have managed to show great promise despite being placed in a position wholly unworthy of your talents." Munakata straightened up, handing Fushimi the last paper. "I heard from the Red Division's Lieutenant that he has been working with you on the strategy for retaking Ashinaka, is that correct?"
"Yes. Sir." The Ashinaka mission was new, something he and Kusanagi had been working on for the past few days. It was a minor town noted more for its university than anything but Homra had been ordered to retake it from the Greens and Kusanagi seemed to think it should be an easy enough win with the right strategy.
"Most impressive." Munakata gave him a perfectly affable smile that reminded Fushimi of a scabbard covering a sword, decoration hiding a blade. "I happen to have need of a strategist in my division. Should the Red Division fail to live up to your expectations, please come to my office."
"What?" Fushimi couldn't help but be caught off guard for a moment. Munakata remained unruffled, as if he hadn't just said something outrageous. Division transfers weren't unheard of, of course, but they were fairly rare and even more so when they involved elite units like Homra. The tattoo itched again and Fushimi bit his lip.
"Please keep my offer in mind." Munakata was already walking away, leaving Fushimi to stare blankly after him. "I do hope we have a chance to speak again, Fushimi-kun."
Then he was gone, leaving Fushimi standing frozen behind him. Fushimi's hands clenched around the papers and he shook his head, walking forward with his head down.
It was ridiculous, of course. Munakata was undoubtedly just playing with him and Fushimi didn't see the point in thinking about it. Even if he didn't belong in Homra – and he didn't, he didn't, from the moment they stepped foot in camp Fushimi knew that he didn't – Misaki was still here. He was still in Misaki's world, and that was enough. That had to be enough.
When he finally returned to the barracks Misaki was gone, though, leaving only a note for Fushimi that he and some of the others had all decided to take advantage of the momentary respite between missions to go down to Shizume and enjoy themselves a little.
You can come and join us once you get back, Saruhiko! Fushimi read the words and his face twisted in a grimace for just a moment before he dragged himself onto his own bunk and pulled out another one of Kusanagi's strategy books.
Please keep my offer in mind. Munakata's words echoed in his head and Fushimi's hand reached up to scratch at the tattoo on his chest.
VIII. left eye (right hand)
It was an easy mission.
Yata kept repeating that in his head as he listened to Kusanagi lay out the plan. His hand itched and he scratched idly at his palm, biting his lip as he tried to keep his eyes on the map in front of him and not on Saruhiko sitting there next to Kusanagi listening to the whole thing with a bored look on his face.
It was going to be an easy mission.
Yata nodded his head absently as if to remind himself of the words. How hard could it be, really? The Colorless Guard had set up a makeshift base some miles east of Shizume, just along the boundary between the already conquered territory and the land the United Colors still held, and they had built some kind of communications tower on the sloping hill nearby. The Red Division had picked up intel that the tower was being used to jam their own communications and it had been decided that Homra would go take care of it.
It didn't seem that hard. Even with just sending the core members of Homra they had the numerical advantage, and the tower seemed to be less well guarded than the base itself. All they had to do was reach it and send someone to disable whatever jammer was being used there. Simple. Easy.
But there was really only one person in Homra who had the skill to properly disable the jammer, especially if it was in any way primed to backfire on someone who tried to simply destroy it rather than rewire it. Saruhiko had to be the one to scale the tower, there was no way around it.
Meaning that for the first time since they'd joined Homra, Yata and Saruhiko would be fighting alone.
Not alone, Yata reminded himself fiercely. He'd be working with the best of Homra to subdue the soldiers in the base. And Saruhiko would be with Mikoto, so there was no way he'd be in trouble. They'd complete the mission and then meet back up and everything would be fine. There was nothing to worry about.
"Yata-chan!" Kusanagi's sharp voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Y-yes!" Yata immediately sat up straighter and Kusanagi sighed. Next to him Saruhiko rolled his eyes and Yata glared at him.
"Pay attention, all right?" Kusanagi shook his head, though he was smiling. "We're movin' out in ten minutes, okay?"
"...Right." Yata laughed sheepishly as everyone began to separate, checking their weapons and looking over the map in preparation for the attack. Kamamoto gave Yata a slap on the back and a smile as he passed and Yata nodded in reply, already moving to join Saruhiko who was still staring down at the map.
"Did you hear a word Kusanagi-san said, Misaki?" Saruhiko's voice was hushed as always but there was a hint of amusement in it.
"I did! I was listening the whole time!" Yata stopped, grabbing at his wrist with one hand to keep himself from reaching for Saruhiko the way he always seemed to do when he felt uncomfortable. They were soldiers of Homra now, he shouldn't need to hold Saruhiko's hand like a little kid every time he felt worried. "Saruhiko...be careful, all right?"
"Shouldn't I be telling you that?" Saruhiko clicked his tongue. "You're the idiot who's always running into trouble and wasn't even listening to the plan."
"Shut up," Yata grumbled. His stomach still felt tight but he managed to smile anyway. "I mean it, okay? The last time I let you do a mission by yourself you almost got killed."
He could still remember it, the panic building his throat as he realized that Saruhiko wasn't going to make it out of the factory.
"You didn't 'let' me do anything," Saruhiko said darkly, eyes averted. "That was my plan, remember?"
"Yeah, and this one is your plan too so I have to be worried," Yata said with forced cheer, trying to lighten the mood. He knew he'd failed when the shadows seemed to gather thicker in Saruhiko's eyes. Yata risked moving closer, placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder. "Just...watch out for yourself? Please?"
"I'll be fine," Saruhiko muttered, though he didn't pull away from Yata's hand. "I'll have 'Mikoto-san' with me, won't I?" There was something dark and bitter in the last sentence and Yata looked at him curiously.
Before he could say anything else he heard Kusanagi calling for everyone to get prepared to move out. Yata glanced back at Saruhiko one more time before turning to go join the rest of the force. Suddenly he stopped and turned back again.
"Saruhiko." Saruhiko looked up at last and Yata held out a fist to him. "I'll...I'll see you after the mission. Right?"
Saruhiko looked at him for a long moment and then finally a tentative smile wound its way across his face as he lightly touched his fist against Yata's.
"After the mission."
Yata nodded, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat as he finally turned away from Saruhiko. He was nearly towards where the others were waiting when he almost ran into Mikoto. Mikoto nodded at him as he passed and Yata looked up at him.
"Mikoto-san..." He couldn't quite bring himself to say it. Mikoto gave him a slight smile anyway and touched a hand to his shoulder.
"I'll take care of 'im." The hand removed itself and Mikoto walked back towards Saruhiko without another word. Even so, Yata felt as though a weight had been lifted off of him.
Everything was going to be fine. Mikoto was with Saruhiko and there was nobody stronger than the Red Division's Captain. They would meet up afterward and everything would be fine.
It was an easy mission, after all.
–
"Where are all these guys coming from?" Yata heard Dewa swear as he took down another approaching soldier. It had started raining hard a few minutes ago and it was difficult to see the rest of Homra through the pouring rain and the blood that was dripping down his face.
Yata didn't really get where things had gone wrong, only that they had. There were twice as many soldiers in the base as the report had said and instead of an easy win they'd found themselves fighting for their lives against dozens of enemy soldiers. Yata's pistol had already run out of bullets and he'd resorted to using it as a club along with his fists. The Colorless soldiers didn't seem to be as well trained as Homra was but there were far more of them and even Yata's endurance was being pushed to the limit.
"Kusanagi-san!" Yata glanced over as Fujishima came running towards them. "There are more of them coming! What should we do?"
Kusanagi looked worn out and somehow that made Yata feel a chill deeper than the rain.
"Retreat." Kusanagi didn't look any happier about giving the order than Yata felt about taking it, even though he knew they didn't have much of a choice. "We have to retreat. Everyone fall back towards the rendezvous point. We need to get out of here before the enemy reinforcements arrive." He looked up abruptly at Yata. "Yata-chan. Go get Mikoto and Fushimi."
"Me?" Yata stared back blankly at him and Kusanagi gave him a weary but encouraging smile.
"You're the fastest person here." Kusanagi brushed some of the water from his eyes. "Go bring them back, all right?"
Saruhiko... Yata glanced towards the hill where he could just make out the hulking shadow of the communications tower. It was clear that whatever information they'd been given about this place was wrong and that meant there could be more soldiers waiting there as well. If that was the case, Saruhiko was in more danger than any of them.
"Right." Yata met Kusanagi's gaze steadily, just managing a shaky salute. "I'll definitely bring Mikoto-san and Saruhiko back!"
Without waiting for further orders Yata turned and dashed towards the hill.
Moving on his own it was easy to run through the camp without being attacked. Most of the enemy soldiers were already dealing with the rest of Homra and the few he did pass by were so shocked at nearly running into him that it was easy to take them out with a fist or the butt of his pistol. In moments he was out of the boundaries of the base and within sight of the hill, never slowing his pace even though he could feel his feet starting to slip a little on the wet grass.
Something came barreling at him through the rain and Yata stumbled a little trying to avoid it, sliding down onto his knees in the mud. He dragged himself onto his hands and knees and looked over at what had almost hit him.
An unconscious soldier, wearing the uniform of the Colorless Guard. The soldier was bleeding from what looked to be a broken nose and Yata felt a grim smile wind its way onto his face. Clearly, Mikoto and Saruhiko weren't going down without a fight.
Yata dragged himself back to his feet, hands and uniform caked in mud as he began to run again. The rise of the hill was just above him and Yata slid again, just managing to catch himself as a bolt of lightning illuminated the scene before him.
Mikoto was standing at the foot the rickety communications tower, surrounded by fallen soldiers. There were four of them still attacking him and he didn't even seem to be straining as he fought back, fists and feet moving in deliberate but devastating motions.
Halfway up the tower itself Yata could just make out the wet miserable form of Saruhiko, huddled against the metal steps with one pistol drawn. He was holding one hand close to his body in a stance that suggested it might be injured in some way but his face was fixed on where Mikoto was fighting and it was clear that he was looking for an opening to shoot as he carefully slid down the tower step by step.
Yata felt the tightness in his chest ease just a bit as he stepped forward. There were only four soldiers left, and neither Mikoto nor Saruhiko seemed to be badly injured at least. It wouldn't take long to finish off the last of the enemy soldiers and make a run for it, join everyone else.
That was when another bolt of lightning lit the sky and Yata caught sight of the thin silhouette of a man standing far off to one side, half-hidden by a scattering of small bushes. He was clothed entirely in black and holding a single long rifle that was pointed directly above the rise of the hill. Yata felt his entire body go numb as his eyes followed the line of the shot.
Saruhiko, reaching the foot of the tower at last.
There was a roaring in Yata's ears, planes and fire, and his hand burned as his legs began to move.
His pistol was out of bullets and he'd never been that good a shot anyway, not as good as Saruhiko. And even with his speed, there was no time to reach the sniper and disrupt the shot before it could go off. There was no way to stop that gun from being fired and Yata did the only thing he knew how to do.
He ran forward towards the communications tower.
"Saruhiko!"
He saw Saruhiko look up, eyes wide and confused, and then there was a sound that might have been thunder and might have been the firing of a gun.
Pain blossomed over the left side of his face and everything abruptly went dark.