[A/N]: Whoops, it's been a while! Been busy with school, as always. Finished my Bachelor's Thesis, and I got a job for in the weekends. Became addicted to this new show, Jane the Virgin. It's amazing and I want to marry the narrator. Anyway, this is the final original chapter. From now on the chapters to come will be newly written ones, so stay tuned and enjoy~

I'd really love to hear your thoughts, guys! I'm pouring my heart out to you here :'D

Amaryllis
Do I remind you of someone you never met, a lonely silhouette?
Do I remind you of somewhere you want to be, so far out of reach?
I wish you'd open up for me 'cause I want to know you.

Dodge left, dodge right, jump back, kick with right leg.

Haru's shin met the side of Mikoto's forearm and their eyes met for a split second before she lost her balance and tumbled to the ground. The King, who claimed to have to protect and help his subjects, merely watched her fall as he changed his stance, relaxing visibly. He narrowed his amber eyes at his friend as she crossed her arms while lying on her back.

Once she had finished pouting, she jumped up and readied herself for battle once more, but she dropped her arms to her sides when Mikoto didn't do the same. He looked deep in thought so she didn't speak. Instead she just waited until he said something himself.

Haru's own thoughts almost began to wonder about as well while she waited, but before they could the redhead suddenly piped up. "We're done for today."

And with that he made his way back to the bar, climbing the steps to the back entrance. They had used the small street to the side of the building as their training ground, away from the traffic and people, and accessible and safe even in the middle of the night.

"What? Why? We haven't even been out here for fifteen minutes!" Haru countered.

They had been doing this for the past few weeks already: once they got home from school – she had started doing her best to catch up with everything she had missed just in time to graduate – she would either do homework or start this with Mikoto. Today was Saturday though, so she had gotten to it almost immediately after the redhead had woken up twenty minutes ago. Normally they would continue until she had exhausted the flame within her, something that took a little less time with every passing day. She could still feel it inside of her, gnawing at the bars of the cage she had built around it.

"You're not even trying." Standing in front of the door to the bar, Mikoto turned around to look at his friend.

"What do you mean I'm not trying?!" Haru retorted. She summoned a small portion of her aura and, as she waved an arm around in irritation, drew a line of red in the air. As if that should convince the redhead that they had to go one.

"You only fight to tire yourself out. You use your aura as a source of energy for your body.

Haru tilted her head to the side and frowned. "Is that not what this is all about?"

Amber eyes cut her way, sending her a sharp look as if to reprimand her in silence. Her ire grew and she countered with a glare of her own. He hadn't ever actually told her what she had to do, after all. All he had done was attack her, expecting her to defend herself. Which she had, though barely. Had this idiot thought that she would magically understand the purpose behind all of this without a word from him all these weeks?!

Mikoto narrowed his eyes at her and raised his arms after all, most likely in response to the flames inside of her that strained to break free in her anger. But the brunette took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching her hands before heaving a sigh, and soon enough the fire dwindled. Perhaps a break in the routine would do her some good after a few weeks of almost non-stop training. With a bit of luck, the redhead would finally explain what he thought she should do instead of simply throwing her fists at him

The tiniest of smiles appeared on his face and he held out a hand for her to grab so that they could return to the bar together. Haru accepted the invitation by taking a few steps towards him, reaching out to slip her palm over his. Just before she did so, however, she pulled back and, in a sudden bout of aftermath-irritation, hurled her fist at him once more. This time her anger snaked up her arm to encase her knuckles in red flames just before they met his cheek.

"For wasting my time!"

One could have heard the smack of her fist against his face a few blocks away.

Izumo laughed his ass off at Mikoto's lovely red cheek and Mikoto had a look on his face that spelled certain doom. The other boys and Haru hid behind the bar counter beside Izumo where they watched things unfold.

"How can he be so carefree when King is looking like that?" Rikio muttered.

"Kusanagi-san must be really scary when he's mad, then," Masaomi added.

"Can't you do something about this, Haru?" Yo asked her.

The brunette shuddered at the thought of revealing herself to the boy. After all, she had just punched him in the face, and though she would defend her actions by saying it had been his own fault, she had regretted it the very moment he had crashed to the ground. In her panic, she had run into the bar to find a spot somewhere out of sight before the King stomped into the room as well.

When the tense air remained after a few minutes of silence, she decided that perhaps she had to do something after all. She had to do something about this, or else someone might actually get killed!

The others watched her as she got up and carefully made her way towards the angry redhead. Standing in front of him, she noticed how some of the hardness in his eyes disappeared at the sight of her.

"Sorry, please forgive me, I shouldn't have hit you." She bowed down so deep that her hair fell over her shoulders and almost touched the floor in a sweeping motion.

A hand fell on top of her head and she expected him to smash her face into the wooden floor. She could only blink in surprise when she received a ruffle of her hair instead. The tension in the air lifted almost immediately and everyone let out a sigh of relief before crawling out of their hiding spots. With her hair now frizzled, Haru remained bent over, not sure what to do.

"I'm glad you're back," Mikoto whispered and she jerked back up to stare at him in surprise, but he quickly averted his gaze. The other boys had started talking to each other, perhaps a little too loud, and she wondered if they hadn't heard his words or whether they pretended not to.

The doors to the bar swung open all of a sudden and a happy Tatara walked into the building, followed by a somewhat less cheerful Ayame. Though she remained her usual shy self when in the company of the newer members, when only the four of them had gathered she already dared to open her mouth of her own accord.

"What have you two been up to?" Izumo asked, a smile on his face as he placed a glass he had just finished polishing back where it belonged.

Ayame blushed, something that happened less these days. Not when it came to Tatara, though. It seemed that everybody but the boy in question had figured it out. Or perhaps he only pretended that he hadn't.

"I asked Ayame-san if she wanted to visit the public gardens with me," Tatara stated happily. "Seeing as none of you would have been interested in joining me."

"Give it a few weeks and you'd have turned yourself down too," the bartender pointed out with a chuckle.

Haru noted that the two of them had been spending more time together lately, though. She had even walked in on them a couple of times doing who knows what, only to stop the moment she entered the room. Tatara would spawn that smile of his while Ayame's face would burn, and Haru would shrug and forget about it all seconds later. Hopefully this wouldn't end up being like one of his hobbies, discarding the poor girl the moment he lost interest in her.

Tatara came over to sit on a stool at the bar while Haru took his place beside Ayame, slipping away from Mikoto unharmed. Deciding she should have a nice chat with her friend, she chose to occupy one of the couches farthest away from the men. Since she had gotten... well, killed, the two of them hadn't managed to have a proper conversation. At first Haru had been too sick to partake in any social activities that lasted longer than five minutes, and after that she had used most of her free time for either schoolwork or training with Mikoto.

"Are you all right?" Ayame asked before Haru could say anything.

She shrugged and sighed. "Yeah, well, Mikoto just told me that I'm using my aura the wrong way, or something like that. But he won't tell me what I am supposed to do with it."

"What did he say then?"

"Uhm, what was it..." Haru tilted her head to the side as she tried to remember. "Something about using it as energy. That I only fight to become tired."

Her friend didn't respond at once and instead stared straight ahead, unseeing. She frowned and pressed her glasses up her nose again, though she didn't seem conscious of this. "And he hasn't offered you any... alternatives?"

Haru shook her head.

"Have you asked Kusanagi-san or Totsuka-kun about it yet?"

This time she threw her head back in frustration, glad for the cushion of the sofa against which the back of her head landed. "Yes! But Tatara only gave me that stupid Tatara-smile of his and Izumo... Izumo knows me too well and keeps distracting me."

"Well..." Ayame started, but her voice trailed off in hesitation. When Haru motioned for her to continue, she said, "Maybe it's... a test?"

"A test?" Haru's eyebrows shot up.

The Strain nodded her head. "Maybe Mikoto wants you to figure it out by yourself?"

With a groan, the brunette let her head fall to the table in front of them with a loud smack. She kept her eyes trained on Ayame, a mixture of a glare and an incredulous stare that made the girl shift in her seat.

"Just great," she muttered as she turned her head so that her chin now rested on the table. Glancing at the boys sitting at the bar, her gaze lingered on a certain redhead as she looked them over. Did they know this secret ingredient to it all? What could Mikoto have meant? If not a source of energy for her body, then what?

She let out another sigh before asking, "So how are Tatara and you doing?"

"W-what are you talking about?" Ayame feigned ignorance though her cheeks provided the brunette with enough of an answer.

"Don't give me that crap," Haru retorted with a roll of her eyes and watched the other swallow hard.

"How about you and Suoh-san?"

What a low blow!

"W-what? W-why would you ask such a thing?!" Haru protested. Now it was her turn to blush.

The two flushed friends stared at each other before they burst into laughter.

"Fine. I... I like Totsuka-kun. He's... warm, and he's kind, and he helped me feel better about myself. It's as if he somehow understands everything about me and knows what I need." She looked over at the boy in question. "I don't doubt that he knows how I feel. But I wonder what he is thinking..."

Haru nodded in agreement. While Tatara seemed like an open book, in truth he was far from it. In fact, she could read Mikoto easier than him, but seeing as everyone else found the redhead rather unpredictable, perhaps it was just her. Tatara simply threw her off with his tragic past yet nonchalant demeanour.

When Ayame turned back around to stare at her, Haru realised that she wouldn't let her off the hook without a story of her own.

"So, how are you and Suoh-san doing?" she said after the brunette refused to start by herself, mimicking Haru's question from a few minutes ago.

"It's not what you think," Haru protested in a whisper, but the Strain wouldn't give up and only shifted closer to her. From this close she could note the blueness of her eyes, always hidden behind her glasses, which almost resembled those of her adoptive brother. "I... I'm not sure yet... I just think that I... might have this crush on him..." She held up her thumb and index finger, leaving a small gap between the two. "A tiny crush."

Ayame tilted her head to the side with a confused look on her face. "If it were a crush, you'd be staring off into the distance happily all the time," she whispered back at you before adding, "Plus, have you seen the way he looks at you?"

Lifting her head from the table and shaking her head a little, Haru refused to listen to her. Sure, they had had their moments, but who was to say that he didn't act that way simply because he had no other female friends?

Then again, the only way to find out for sure would be through a straightforward, worded manner. Hints would not work on a man like Mikoto Suoh. But building up the courage to actually talk to him about this kind of thing might take far too long...

Though she liked to boast about her chatty nature and the fact that she almost always knew what to say, none of that applied to such intimate subjects. Izumo most likely had that talent, but Haru was no Izumo and thus could not speak of having such charms.

And even if Mikoto returned these feelings, the current him would never take the first step. If she ever hoped to start anything with that guy, she knew that she would have to approach him.

Wait – when had she ever agreed to liking him in the first place?

Was she even ready to attempt to build something with him?

No, probably not. Not right now, at least. But she could try to grow, to become the woman he could love with all his heart until his very last breath, right? And he could become the man she would want to stay with for the rest of her life, too.

"I think you're right," Haru finally replied with yet another sigh, surprising her friend.

Though she had told herself that she would gather her courage to take this accursed first step, actually doing so was a completely different matter.

What should she do, anyway?

Confess?

Ask him whether he liked her?

Hug him?

That evening she sat downstairs, staring at the floor with unseeing eyes, even though her bedtime had passed. Not that she actually had a bedtime to begin with, but when Mikoto decided to go upstairs Haru often followed, deeming it an appropriate time to go to sleep as well.

The words "Mikoto" and "bed" made her brain conjure images she did not want or need to see and before she knew it, she had gotten up from her seat. After bidding Izumo good night she climbed the stairs, unsure of what she planned on doing. At the top of the staircase her feet seemed to hesitate for a split second before the wooden boards beneath her soles creaked as she made her way towards Mikoto's door.

When she entered his room she saw that Mikoto lying in bed, his back turned to her and her mind wandered back to the very first time that she had stepped in here with the intention of sleeping on his couch. Without a sound she closed the door behind her and tiptoed over to the bed, somehow managing to pull off her shoes, socks and trousers on her way there without tripping or waking the redhead up. Or so she thought.

Just as she lifted a leg to climb onto the mattress she noticed that Mikoto had turned around, his eyes taking in her form. That same moonlight as back then poured in through that same gap between the curtains as she crawled beneath the covers to lie down next to him.

"Hi," she whispered, and she could have kicked herself when she heard a giggle escape her throat.

The redhead raised a brow but remained silent as he examined her face, probably searching for any hints of discomfort like they always did.

Didn't that tell her enough, though? He cared for her.

It was now or never, she told herself.

Now or never.

Now or never.

She wrapped an arm around his body to pull him closer before leaning in, making sure to give him enough opportunities to push her away. And then she had pressed her lips to his.

When she didn't receive an immediate reaction from the redhead she pulled away, her brows knit into a frown. Regret filled her and she began to reprimand herself. She wondered how she could have thought that the Red King might have liked her. She wanted to slide out of bed and into the ground and into the earth, to never resurface again.

But before she could do any of that his lips had found hers again, his fingers pressing against the skin of her arms as he pulled her closer to him. Her hand flew up to find a bare chest, felt it twitch beneath her touch. Carefully, tentatively, he opened his mouth and slipped his tongue past her lips, which had parted in surprise when he had dipped his digits down to find the side of her breast on top of her shirt. He smirked into the kiss, though that soon disappeared when, as their tongues found each other, her hand began to wander up and down his body, inspecting every piece of flesh it came across and raising goose bumps in its wake.

At the back of her mind she noted that he tasted of a strange mixture toothpaste and cola and smelled distinctly like only Mikoto could: cologne, the bar and smoke. It smelled of home.

Unconsciously, she lifted a leg, tracing her knee along the insides of his thighs until they came high enough to elicit a low groan from him. The sound of it surprised her, and she froze, only to come back to life when he trailed a finger down her side until it found her underwear. But it hesitated there and instead moved back and forth along her hipbone, as if asking for permission. A shiver ran through her entire body and her lust, in the form of a flame, flared inside of her at the prospect of what might come if she allowed him access to her most private part...

But she couldn't. This she realised when she noted the hint of discomfort that had nestled in her stomach.

If not a source of energy, then what?

She didn't voice her decision and answered him by wrapped her arm around his shoulder again, pulling their bodies too close to each other for a hand to come in between them. That hint he did seem to get, and he even relaxed beneath her embrace. He didn't allow her to be surprised at that, for he, too, wrapped his limbs around her, wriggling an arm beneath her to encase her within his warmth.

When they broke the kiss, it was only to catch their breath, and even then their lips never strayed too far from each other. His hot breath fanned over her face as he rested his forehead against hers. It didn't take long before he moved in again, his mouth hovering above hers, waiting for her. She gazed into his eyes for a few moments before she closed hers and traced her tongue across his lower lip.

Only when a soft growl left his throat and he had lowered himself onto her again, his teeth tugging at a bruised lip, did the situation dawn on her.

She was kissing him.

She was making out with him.

With Mikoto, the guy that the girls at school could only dream about because they feared him too much to approach him.

And now I'm kissing him.

His hands found their way into her hair, calloused digits gently grabbing and tugging at the tresses as he pressed his body against hers, tried to dig deeper into her mouth.

If he had been this desperate to touch her, to hold her, then why had he waited for her to make the move?

Because he was Mikoto. That was how he was.

He pulled away again, panting softly, and this time he smiled as he rolled onto his back with a sigh. As he did so he pulled her along with him. With her face flushed she stared at him as he closed his eyes and fell asleep with a look of contentedness on his face.

Without thinking she lifted a hand to caress his cheek, which felt just as warm as hers did. She mimicked his expression as she, too, went to sleep.