Note: I know that I break my promise to update sooner. But real life is as busy as hell, I barely have time to sleep or do anything else. Writing fic is the only thing I do during free time recently, so I hope you will at least forgive me…unless someone would do something with my real life piling, endless assignments, I think the next chapter will be delayed as well…sob…
A slight hint of Mikoto/Totsuka and Fushimi/Munakata if you really squint. For Fushimi/Munakata, please blame AkiFushi for giving me ideas, lol lol. To avoid confusion, let me explain that this chapter takes place before the end of last chapter. I rewind it a little bit to have better understanding of the timeline.
"When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance." ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
"In summary, there is no clear explanation for his unconscious state." The doctor pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose with his finger. "From the medical record, there is a history of brain concussion because of the fall, and multiple fractures. However, we found that the bleeding does not suppress the brain part responsible for arousal and the amount is insignificant to cause extensive ischemic damage to the brain. We initially assumed that the coma was the simply temporary result of neuron injury that occurred during head trauma. However, in most cases, the patient would have woken up less than a month. Emphasizing the discrepancy between examinations without significant pathologic finding and his prolonged comatose state, theoretically speaking they did not match up."
Daikaku gave a little nod of understanding as his best medical team fell into a brief silence, allowing the Gold King to take in the information. "Go on."
"Thus, we are still hoping for him to regain his consciousness, but we still have to consider that he has been in coma for almost a year into account. The prognosis tends to decline with the longer comatose period."
"So we can only wait for him to wake up for now, is that what you've implied?"
The head of medical staff was silent with grim look casted on his face before he breathed out, "Yes." The appointed doctor then continued on, as if telling them that the worst part was still not revealed. "However, there are also complications following prolonged bed rest, such as muscle weakness and infections, like pneumonia. We have given our best to prevent these, by collaborating with rehabilitation and nursing team, but we still have to inform you these in advance. He had several episodes of the infections, though all of them were successfully treated by administering antibiotics."
"Is there no other way to speed up his recovery?" Suddenly a solemn, baritone voice joined in the discussion. Daikaku glanced back at Mikoto who sat just behind him, listening in silence until a moment ago. At first, he preferred to keep the medical information regarding Blue King, who was currently under his close supervision, confidential. However, the Red King persisted, even resorted to threatening him to get a seat in this conference room. As usual, Weismann gave his support to the Red King (Daikaku had his suspicion that his friend was too supportive of secret relationship between these young kings because it seemed amusing to break the unwritten tradition that rivals did not get involved in romance, but he did not bother to ask.) and he was always lenient to the Silver King anyway, so there they were, sitting before the best Japan's medical team he could gather.
He examined Mikoto, being completely wary that he would lose his composure and cause havoc in the conference room with his fiery temperament, but the Red King did nothing of sort. If anything, there was a storm inside those down casted golden eyes and his posture was slightly slouched. Somehow he felt a pang of sympathy, but he did not voice it. His staffs were looking at him, inquiring his permission to lay out the truth. He eventually said with a curt nod of his head, "Just answer him."
The doctor in his middle-age with streak of gray hairs among raven-colored one cleared his throat and stared straight at Mikoto, as his clear voice echoed slightly in the confined compartment. "No. Even with latest technology, we have no means to induce arousal. Until then, we can only keep observing and preventing complications."
They fell into a heavy silence once again and despite the bright sunshine and cloudless sky outside the window, the atmosphere was so bleak inside the meeting room as if there was murky cloud floating above them. Daikaku crossed his arms inside his kimono sleeves and finally interrupted the suffocating stillness. "Thank you for the explanation. You may all leave." It did not take a minute for the whole team to hurriedly leave the room and returned to their posts with a chorus of relieved sighs. Even though none of them intentionally pressed the doctors, the presences of three mighty kings gave tremendous pressure on ordinary human beings.
When the door was closed, leaving only the first kings and Mikoto, Isana began softly as he rubbed the back of his head, "Well, they did say that there is still hope for waking up…"
"It has been a year, Weismann. It would be better not to hold high expectation." The Gold King said, avoiding disdained look from his best friend for blundering his effort to keep Mikoto's spirit high.
"A miracle can only occur if you wish for it, lieutenant." Isana gave a hard stare at the old king. Daikaku seemed to be uncertain but he did not contradict him. They then all averted their focus on Mikoto, who abruptly stood up and left the room without a word.
'He will be unconscious until the years he is indebted for travelling time are fully paid.'
Mikoto recalled the last time he encountered the time-travel strain as he walked without thinking of a destination across the white corridor of the medical wing of Gold King's private residence. Ever since that day, he made no attempt to hunt after the strain, not when he remembered that the young boy would probably no longer in this world. He only bothered to memorize those words, which rang inside his mind, and they keep echoing like perpetual ripples in the lake, especially on recent weeks. It might be because they almost reached the day when the Colorless King's life ended in his hand along with Gold King and Silver King.
He kept a hope inside, believing every word Akizuki have offered and waiting for the day when he could at last see those blinking violet eyes and listen to the incessant nitpick of certain blue-head king. But patience was not his forte, and when time kept ticking, trepidation slowly sneaked into his heart, inflicting constant agony as his faith crumbled.
Just how much time is Munakata actually in debt?
How many years would he have to wait until the frozen hand of time started to move again? Mikoto even wondered if Munakata would even wake up before death found him first.
As promised, Silver King enthusiastically started his research and Mikoto begrudgingly became his subject of study. The study was advancing slowly, but it was moving forward. While conducting his research, the silver-haired student began living with his Clansmen, and as if he had multiple personalities, he reverted back to his cheerful side as if the tragedy involving the Colorless King never occurred although when he was alone with the First King, he would often show wise expression that did not match up with his childlike feature. The Black Dog, the vassal of previous Colorless King still followed the same master along with the female cat strain; occasionally bickering with each other like the world was free of trouble. The view somewhat did not differ much with what he usually found every noon in HOMRA bar.
Just like record had stated, Weismann was indeed a historical genius with his achievement and progress of the research. They still had not found a way to restore the cracking Sword of Damocles to its original glory, but the Silver King had been working on a device to interrupt the link between Dresden Slate and the Kings temporarily by creating noise (he could not comprehend the detail and decide that it did not interest him, so he ignored Weismann's long, frenzied explanation). While it was made in order to counter king's infinite supremacy who might abuse the power of Dresden and to prevent the history of last Colorless King from repeating itself, Weismann had suggested that it might help for Mikoto to dwindle the pressure by uncontrollable Red Aura when he did not need it. So far, the prototype had indeed helped him to sleep without constant nightmare to haunt him, although in consequence he had to bring along his lighter in his pocket since a flick of his finger did not help him anymore to light up his cigarette.
Nevertheless, even though the dreadful dream involving fire storm and dust and crimson blood had stopped, he still could not rest without being awakened in the middle of the night with cold sweat drenching his back. A peaceful sleep was still beyond his reach, when he always saw the same view every time he closed his eyes; the painted aquamarine world surrounded by ice, the casket filled by blue roses and the peacefully sleeping Munakata with pale skin inside it. No matter how loud he had called his name, the passage of time seemed to freeze over and there was nothing alive aside himself.
A feminine voice suddenly interrupted the train of his thoughts, "Are you visiting?"
When Mikoto lifted up his chin, he met the azure-colored orbs and gleaming golden strands falling in front of a beautiful yet distant face. He slapped himself mentally for not even noticing that he was musing along the way as his feet carried him to the medical wing where Munakata had been confined. Seri did not offer a smile when she saw Mikoto coming from the other side of hallway, although it already became his habit to frequently drop in to visit Munakata's guarded room. No matter how many time had passed, Scepter 4 would always be wary of him, fearing that he would someday lose himself to Red Aura when he was near their defenseless Captain since his Sword was already at the brink of collapsing ever since last year's incident. It was almost like one drop of misfortune and Mikoto would lose the balance and became the calamity. They did not even want to imagine if the moment was to come when Mikoto was in the same room with Blue King.
However, Mikoto would always brush off the suspicion and answered nonchalantly, "Yes." And Seri would always move aside from the entrance door, to allow him an entry. After all, it was useless trying to stop Mikoto. Once he decided on one thing, he would not back away and the last thing Seri needed was a commotion just outside her king's chamber.
"Then please behave yourself." Seri averted her eyes, and gazed down at the marble floor as she took a step away from the door. Mikoto only nodded in gratitude before he reached out for the door knob and pushed it to get inside. Just as soon as the door was opened, his golden eyes met Fushimi's impassive ones. The young commander was sitting on a chair beside the only hospital bed in the room with crossed arms, looking bored before he noticed Mikoto's ingress and curtly turned his head away with a click of his tongue in annoyance and translucent displeasure on his face. When Mikoto stepped inside the room, the raven-haired officer at once walked out of the room, bumping the Red King by shoulder intentionally, almost too hard for an accident. Fushimi continued striding out of the room without even looking back or offering an apology and slammed the door as he exited.
Mikoto smirked at Fushimi's small retaliation against him visiting his Captain. He thought that the black-haired teen was too distant that he hated human interaction in overall, since Fushimi seemed to befriend no one in HOMRA but Yata Misaki. However, it appeared that Munakata had done well in gaining his trust.
Mikoto's mind ran back toward Munakata when his eyes landed on the resting king. For almost a year, he had been doing the same routine that he probably could walk to Munakata's bedside without using his sight. But even so, the pang of guilt whenever his feet breached the space would always stab him, no matter how often he had seen that lonely figure on the hospital bed, sheathed by a pristine white blanket.
As he sat on the side of Munakata's bed, the cushion creaked slightly as it dipped under the extra weight. Mikoto spent a minute in silence, observing every little detail his eyes could perceive from the man in front of him. The same man who lied wasted in this small, tedious room was entirely different back then. Munakata Reisi was supposed to be a composed and logical man, who often had weird sense of humor and constantly annoying and sardonic toward Mikoto while inside he was a loving King, and had a soft spot for children. He was supposed to be strong and regal with flawless elegance in every little movement that mesmerized Mikoto because it was not just for a man to be this naturally graceful. He was faithful to his principal, like a scale, to a fault. That trait has always tempted Mikoto to mess him up or at least throw him off the balance, because it would be the rare moments when for once, Munakata would fluster, be it from frustration or embarrassment. For precious brief seconds, his cool and composed mask would be forgotten and showed his endearing humane side.
But this was no longer the case and Mikoto had missed his companion, regardless his antics. No matter how often he visited to disturb Munakata's slumber, he would remain still; chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Totsuka once commented that he should try fairy tale method, but Mikoto shrugged him off with a snort. After all, even before the absurd idea came up, he already left more kisses on those pale, dry lips than they ever had when both of them were alive and well. He had proven, and so was medical field that nothing could enforce his blue-haired lover's awakening but time itself.
When he realized it, Mikoto already found a lock of soft sapphire blue strands between his fingertips. It felt so natural for him now to stretch his hand and reached out for Munakata side bangs which were left to grow longer than a year ago. He rubbed against its softness wistfully, as he lowered his head until his chin was tucked on the junction between Munakata's shoulder and collar bone."This is probably our punishment. Because I try to take the easy road while leaving the hard work to you, and because you just don't know when to give up and get tempted by the devil's offer in the end," said Mikoto in hushed voice next to Munakata's ear. "And it's okay, because I don't much choice but waiting anyway until you pay your debt. But now I'm wondering if you're not waking up also because you don't wish it." Mikoto clenched his fist and took a full grip on Munakata's front kimono until the fabric creased messily. "Munakata," He emphasized the name under threatening tone.
"You would probably say, that I'm telling nonsense." Mikoto chuckled bitterly as he felt the thumping heartbeats against his chest. Mikoto paused to sit up and watched the man beneath him. There was not even a twitch of his finger and Mikoto's mind laughed cynically.
When he glanced to the outside absentmindedly, a taint of dreary cloud hovered just at the edge of the ginger-colored horizon with hues of violet, enveloping the sun glare. Mikoto was observing the contrast of the weather when he muttered quietly, "When we destroyed him, the weather was like today too." He remembered vaguely that they had broken into Gold King's palace under the intense burning sun light. Then by end of the day, the air had turned into gust of icy chill with fluttering snowflakes, signaling the early winter. He allowed his mind to drift back to rewind the time in his memories while forgetting the real time.
After a moment that felt less than an hour, he snapped out of his reverie when a knock on the door reached his ears. As he whirled around, Seri had stood with crossed arms in front of her bosoms with an expression that Mikoto had trouble to read. She simply stared at him for a brief moment before she forced out a long exhale, "Visiting hour almost ends. Please leave the premise now, Suoh Mikoto."
"And if I don't?" A hint of smirk was apparent in his voice. As expected, Seri narrowed her icy eyes precariously. It was not difficult for him to press her button (especially with her beloved king just within his arm length), but he never crossed the line. It would bore him to death if Izumo complained to him all night long because a certain beautiful blonde he had crushed on lashed her rage out at him. He slid his hands into his pockets and bounced off the cushion casually before he strolled out of the room, passing through her without a word.
Seri watched warily at the retreating back before she gave a long forlorn stare at her fallen king and shut the door close softly after turning off the light. She had requested the Gold King's permission for Scepter 4 assuming full responsibility of guarding their Blue King personally, but the Second King did not even grant her an answer that she had no choice but to back down under his fierce look. Biting her lower lip in frustration, she approached the standby rabbit guard and bowed slightly at them, "We entrust our king to you. Please guard him well."
The raven robes rustled as the Gold Clansmen bowed back at her wordlessly and went to their post in front of the chamber door, standing still as if they were the guardian statues.
"Sigh, this is totally boring!" Domyoji tossed his cards in his hand on the mahogany table carelessly before he leaned back on the sofa. "Without Captain, we don't have much to do. Chasing after weak Strains in the city upside down has no thrill."
"Say that again when you can write your report properly," Fushimi seethed without thinking as his eyes were fixed on his computer screen, typing furiously on the keyboard. A vein popped on his head as his frustration kept piling up because of the endless reports that required revision. How could his colleagues inconsiderately play card games when he was sitting just across them on his working desk, rewriting their amateur-class reports? Furthermore, did they even graduate from high school for being only able to write mediocre content with worst writings?
The ginger-head officer turned his head toward Fushimi and laughed lopsidedly from the comfortable cushion, "Aww, don't be too serious, Fushimi. It will be horrible if your hair turns white when Captain wakes up."
His hands flinched and halted in their lithe dance above the keyboard. Fushimi shifted in his chair uncomfortable and fixed his eyeglasses unnecessarily as mumbled softly, "If he ever wakes up."
Domyoji frowned for a second and gritted his teeth and yelled while slamming his palms on the table until they were angry red from the hit, "Hey! What does that mean!? Of course he will!"
Fushimi slowly turned his chair to face his colleagues who watched him edgily, but when they met his somber eyes, their anger quickly dissipated and only awkward silence set in, in exchange for the transient fury. They all understood the resigned feeling that had lingered like an unbroken curse inside their imperial HQ. They all had kept waiting and waiting until their fortitude ran dry and yet there was still no sign of their King to tread his way into the building again.
Akiyama glanced at the Domyoji to make him apologize to Fushimi for raising his voice, but the gesture only aggravated the sunset-colored haired man. "Then I dare you! I bet that Captain will probably wake up in 3 days!" shouted Domyoji with shrill laughter, while lifting his leg on the edge of their table and pointing at Fushimi. "If I lose, I swear I will keep re-writing my report until it meets your standard!"
Akiyama paled instantly at the bet, "Domyoji, you shouldn't…" After all, his writing was the worst and always gained the most scorned look from Fushimi whenever he submitted the report. It would fry his brain and kill him in the progress, if anything. Fushimi's standard was beyond their capability.
Fushimi frowned at the irrational exclaim. In his opinion, he did not like to lay his fate on something called luck. He was determined to keep winning, and thus he would make an effort to achieve it. Betting games was not to his liking. Even card games were probability sports that he only had to use math to come out as victorious. In short, if he did not have to, he would not bet on anything. But the offer was too tempting in this occasion. Only Heaven knew how many nights he had to stay up late to rewrite Domyoji mediocre-at-best reports. If he could enslave the latter to make him rewriting the whole things on his own, he could save some energy and it would be quite entertaining to torture that vigorous colleague.
After all, how could he lose? For a year, Captain was still not awake. What could possibly happen in three meager days?
Fushimi rose from his chair and grinned with a glint of wicked in his deep blue eyes. "Sure, why not? You better prepare yourself to go back to school to learn writing."
Domyoji flinched and stuttered a little at Fushimi's confidence, but his manly pride would not allow him to back off the game he started himself. "H-hmph! If you lose, you gonna be the first one to hug Captain once he wakes up, to redeem yourself!"
Fushimi wrinkled his nose and frowned. He just could not bring himself to display such affection in public, especially before his co-workers' eyes. He could not even imagine himself to hug anyone, not even his Captain. Hell, he even always fought the urge to embrace a certain red-haired fiery teen that he wished to tuck him in the box and keep him safe for himself. He would admit that he did keep his superior on the top list of tolerable persons in his book, just under Misaki's name, in case he decided to destroy the world and exterminate everyone within it. But he still doubted that he would lose his poise just because his Captain had awakened.
He started to feel like giving up on this silly game. It was not as if he would care to hurt his pride by putting off the game when he just accepted it. But he calculated the benefit if he won the prize, so he decided to keep the deal. "Just be prepared. I'll make you re-write the reports until you drop dead."
The rest of Scepter4 members exchanged worried glance at each other before they all gave a pitiful stare at Domyoji, to his surprise. "What?! How can all of you be not on my side!?" He accused with abandoned puppy look and the others averted their eyes with weak laughs. They would not dare to risk themselves being whipped around by Fushimi to fix their reports. It would mean no short breaks, no weekends, no early leave, and they just could not survive that, considering how taxing their jobs already without those damn official reports.
"You all traitors!" He screamed before he wailed pitifully while running out of their assembly room.
Fushimi snorted as he resumed his work with a devilish smirk.
The bell chimed as the door was opened.
Totsuka and Anna quickly peeked out their head to see the visitor they had been expecting. "Welcome back, King!" said the blond lopsidedly with a grin. "How is it today?"
Izumo was in the middle of drying off the dishes behind the counter when he lifted his eyes to meet Mikoto's. He only needed a glance at Mikoto to get his answer. The gestures were subtle, but they had known for so long that he could read the red-haired king from his bearing. After all, their king was not exactly a communicative type either that most often than not, they had to try to read him. It was not difficult after a long effort. While Mikoto would not speak what had burdened his mind, his posture was honest and gave all the hints they needed.
Mikoto quickly caught on what the blond was implying and simply shrugged and shook his head. Totsuka's smiled faltered a little bit, before he brought himself to give the latter a bright grin. "Well, no worries. It will be just fine! He will come around sooner or later."
The Red King answered him with a faint grateful smile before he walked inside the bar and sat on the sofa beside Totsuka, only to flop down and lay down his head on his lap. Anna jumped off her chair from Totsuka's side only to circle around the table and dropped herself on the floor, next to Mikoto. She folded her arms at the edge of the cushion and propped her chin on them, so her face was so close to Mikoto. "It's okay. I can feel it will be fine, Mikoto."
Mikoto turned his head to face the little princess and watched as the ruby eyes were as clear as crystals and bright with joy although her lips did not show her smile. He exhaled with a little beam before he put his large head on top of her silver-haired head, patting lightly. She leant into his touch with closed eyes to savor the safety she felt from his affectionate gesture and smiled faintly.
"Thanks, Anna."
She nodded and laid her head on her arms, next Mikoto. His presence made her felt secure and warm that she just did not want to leave his side. Moreover, her king was slightly down, more than usual for today after coming home. Anna wondered if they told bad news about the Blue King to Mikoto, because that subject seemed to be the only thing that could influence him to this extent recently. She wanted him to be happy again, and she believed it was not beyond his reach. But Mikoto would probably not believe her when she said everything would be fine. He would probably think that she was just consoling him. She did not have anything to back her up and she could only sense it. There was no way she could compete for Mikoto's faith when the Gold King's team would probably have spread the facts before him.
Her saddened thought was probably shown on her face blatantly that Mikoto's stern voice snapped her out of her trance, "Anna, I believe you." More than them. More than anyone. The last part was left hanging in the air, unsaid, but she understood that she replied with her angelic smile and the gloom on her face had been lifted.
Izumo heaved a sigh and approached them while wiping his hands with a towel. "Well, enough with this gloom. Any request for dinner?"
His rest was dreamless. It felt like drifting the sea of blackness and he was void of sensation, as if floating in the vast space, at the same time, at nothingness. However, it was much better. He preferred this kind of reverie, better than to see the sea of flame, crumbling ruin of the city, and the scream of pain and sadness. It was better than to see a single, sad coffin in the world of white and blue roses and the stillness of the atmosphere.
But the luxury of pleasant slumber was short-lived.
The darkness was still wrapping around him when a blaring noise of his phone interrupted his slumber. His golden eyes simply stared in disdain at his phone with an agonizing groan, which was abandoned just next to him on the bed before he gave a quick glance at the outside of his window. It was probably past midnight, but the daybreak had yet arrived to greet his eyes as no single light had dawned on the jet black sky. The snow fluttered slowly and the mist had fogged his window until he barely made out the outline of the outside view.
When his foggy mind had cleared up for a little bit with the noise, he reached out for it to see the impudent caller and maybe picked it up to threaten the one on the other line. But when he pressed the button to pick up the call, the line went dead because of prolonged idle time.
Mikoto frowned and tossed it back before he threw himself again on the pillow, allowing the sleep to claim him again. However, not even a minute had passed when the noise returned and annoyed him. He grabbed for the phone roughly and watched the screen displaying private number. He pondered if he should just reject it and resume his sleep or pick it up and promise a painful death to the intruder. He decided to pick the second option that he brought the phone to his ear, suppressing a growl as he asked, "Who is this?"
"Ah! Finally you pick it up! You should have answered it sooner, you know." The airy voice that he quite recognized as the Silver King's sounded a bit distant from the other line. There was background noise like a crowd standing on Weismann's place.
Mikoto glared at his phone, retorting with a hoarse filled with sleep voice, "It is not even morning. What do you want?"
"Well, I just assume that you would like to hear the news earlier than anyone else. Lieutenant told me to wait until morning, but I disagreed. Now I wonder if I make a mistake." His singsong voice only irritated Mikoto, adding the fuel to fire. If he was there, he would probably hit the latter's head in annoyance. Mikoto heaved a tired sigh and yawned, "Just spit it, or I'll turn it off."
"I'm sorry, I don't intend to irritate you." The man on the other line chuckled a little, and the apology did not sound sincere enough that Mikoto scowled angrily; his thumb was on the verge of pressing the red-colored phone button. "He is awake just now. The night-shift nurse finds him first. I'm sure you know who I'm talking about."
His hand shook as he flinched at the news that his thumb accidentally pressed the dial-off button. Mikoto stared at the device blankly, trying to register the news, wondering if he was in the middle of a dream. He just could not decide if he was numb because he was overjoyed or he was being skeptical about it. In the end, a minute passed in silence and he still could not figure it out. The phone did not ring back either, and the anxiety began to set in that he was really just imagining it.
As his last attempt to confirm his dread, Mikoto hurriedly leapt off his bed and grabbed for his favorite black fur jacket hanging in the nearby chair and put it on while he mechanically started running for the exit. He did not even think of closing his door room gently that it slammed shut too loud. By the time his feet had reached the last stair, a perturbed sleepy voice rang just before him, "Mikoto?"
Mikoto whirled around and waited impatiently for a while until Izumo appeared just at the top of the stair. The blond stifled a yawn and rubbed his eyes, "Seriously, man, I thought there was a burglar when I've just installed a new bar light and several sets of champagne crystal glass. What are you doing at this hour?"
Izumo noticed how agitated his friend was despite the dim light of the room, just at the end of the stairs, but it was not a negative kind of agitation. If he had to guess, it was more like an ecstatic agitation Izumo had back then when the blond bartender asked a girl out for a date on middle high school. He quirked up an eyebrow questioningly, "Did something happen?"
The red-haired man stared up in daze, as if he was staring at something past through Izumo. "No, I just have to confirm something."
The blond caught a hint that Mikoto did not wish to talk about it yet. It would be pointless him then to coax him for an answer. "Ok. See you then."
In a blink of eye, his friend had dashed out the door in surprising speed he never showed outside the battle field and even left it open in his rush, causing the winter wind to trespass and fill up the room. Izumo slightly shivered, grumpily muttered at how cold the air was and how absentminded for Mikoto for not closing the door and saving him from the trouble.
Not even a single ray of light had even peeked through the gray cloud and the road was empty as if he was crossing on the dead city. Mikoto could even count the passing cars with one hand although he paid no heed to such trivia. Who could blame the inhabitant? It was still dead at night and the freezing air was biting to the bones. No one in the right mind would like to walk around in the middle of the city voluntarily. Even a passing bystander would raise an eyebrow at him for running in the middle of snowfall without an umbrella or adequate fabric warmer.
The snow melted when it touched his sweaty skin, but the cold it carried failed to seep into his pores. However, the wintry air he took in still felt painful and dry on his throat. A white mist was released with every exhale of his breath. He kept running as fast as his legs could carry him, as far as he could be. Once in a while he would slow down and walk in quick pace, while catching up with his ragged pants. To his dismay, it was out of operating hours for public transport and the snowstorm would hinder the trains from moving either. Nevertheless, the hospital where Munakata had been confined and isolated was still rather far, since it was placed close from Gold King's residence. He grumbled in impatience, but kept pushing himself to get his destination sooner, even if only a minute.
He just had to know. To confirm.
"Whoa…are you running all the way here?" Weismann tilted his head with a surprised grin as his eyes found Mikoto, who was briefly stopping by the entrance door of the hospital to calm down his palpitating heartbeats and gasping breaths. "That's a lot sooner that I've expected. I even prepare to wait for another 2-3 hours until your arrival."
Mikoto narrowed his eyes at the young teen who was currently sitting with crossed legs on the deserted lobby with a dim light. A random magazine that was prepared from the hospital in waiting room was sprawled on his lap. It was apparent that the latter was waiting for him.
After his pants had fallen into a steadier rhythm, Mikoto stepped into the lobby and stood before the latter with crossed arms, looking demanding, "Well?" He took off the bracelet on his left wrist, a gift from Silver King, to let the Red Aura to flow into him again in a flash and warm him up. Once the warmth turned into fire inside him, he put on his Aura-manacle again and the sound of Dresden Slate felt distant once more.
The silver-haired teen let out a heavy sigh dramatically, "You should have at least listened to me until the end, you know."
Mikoto glared at him. "If this is a joke, I swear I'll kill you."
Weismann shut close the magazine almost forcefully and smiled, "Of course I don't. I'm not that mean." He rose from the chair and walked past through Mikoto to return the book to its rightful place when he said, "But if you listen to me, you'll know that it's useless for you to come this early."
"What do you mean?" Mikoto followed behind the young student as Weismann treaded his way to password-locked elevator, leading to the private inpatient room.
"The staff found him awake just an hour ago. But when the doctor team arrived, he had resumed his sleep again." The elevator made a 'ding' sound before the door was opened. Mikoto swiftly went in just after the first king and it went up with a whirring sound in the background. "After that, he still haven't opened his eyes. But the doctors said not to worry. The Blue King is probably just sleeping since patients like him usually feels extreme exhaustion that they will spend time sleeping more than healthy people until they are getting better."
"So he will wake up, right?" The thumping of his hopeful heart was too loud that it was deafening his ears.
"Based to the doctors, yes. Hopefully this morning or noon." Weismann grinned at him merrily as he stood leaning against the wall across Mikoto. "Kuroh is keeping guard on him, while some of the rabbits are inspecting the staffs and the place to keep the security to maximum level. If you want to wait and rest, there is a waiting room with a bed in it just next to Blue King's room. Lieutenant has prepared it, already assuming that you will insist on staying here."
Mikoto kept the answer to himself, already thinking deeply of what he should say or where he should begin if Munakata was finally capable of responding to his voice. The dread clenched tight on his chest that for once in his life, he felt like running away from this constricting pain. At the same time, his heart fluttered in hope and the excitement was too much that he felt dizzy and he wished that the elevator would just stop sooner.
When the confining device abruptly halted and the door slide opened leisurely, Mikoto swiftly slipped out through the slit. Weismann shook his head with a little chuckle at such youthful impatience and trailed behind Mikoto on his own relaxed pace. His job was done. His role was only to be the informant and now he would just observe how things would flow from here on. Just from the other side of the hallway, his amber eyes noticed that Kuroh had caught a sight on him that the raven-haired vassal quickly walked away from the door, nodding in acknowledgement a little to Mikoto before he walked through him to approach the Silver King.
"Did he do anything to you?" Kuroh stared at the amber eyes in scrutiny before he glanced through his shoulder, watching warily at the Red King who barely noticed his presence.
Weismann let out a soft laugh, barely heard under his breath, "You are too cautious around him. Stop worrying. He cannot kill me, even if he has a reason."
"It doesn't mean that you won't feel pain in your heart." A pair of grey eyes was locked in the smaller man with transparent worry. Even though it was only for a year since he last followed this king confined in youthful vessel, the only one thing he knew for certain was that Weismann had tendency of hurting himself if it could save the others from trouble. He would not speak his own pain or complain, but embracing it as if the problem was entirely his responsibility when it should not be that way. That precise trait always made him anxious. If the man himself would not even bother to pay attention to his own need, it was his strict duty as the vassal to provide it. Deep down, he acknowledged that the feeling he had for his king was something surpassed the obligation of a duty, but the time had not come for him to cross the line between king and his Clansmen.
The white-haired student flushed a little at the attention. He never got used to be the recipient. The only person who displayed affection and concern for his well-being was long dead. Even when he lived the fabricated life as Isana Yashiro and Kukuri poured some concern in the name of friendship, the concern Kuroh always had for him was in totally different level. It made him happy, although he was not entirely sure how to express his gratitude. Instead, he smiled; the exceptional one that he always showed when he was honestly thankful for Kuroh and Neko as his family.
Mikoto walked passed through the door and noticed a small group wearing white coats gathered just on the Blue King's bedside across the door. Some of them were scribbling and taking notes while the rest of them were talking language he barely understood; probably typical medical stuff, in fast motion. Although the chatter among them was just too loud that it should probably enough to bring the dead back to life, Munakata did not even show any sign of waking up. Those violet eyes remained shut as if they were never opened; contradicting what Weismann had notified him what had taken place an hour ago.
None of them realized his presence until he was just a feet away from the other side of hospital bed and stood before them with expectant look. When the Gold King's private medical staff started to become aware of him just at the corner of their eyes, they shared a chorus of gasp and bowed at him a little. The room was suddenly too quiet for his liking.
"Is it true that he has woken up?" Mikoto asked carefully.
They glanced at each other, pushing the responsibility to answer to one another. Although they were specifically chosen by the Gold King himself, these staffs were by all means, no warrior. They did not have a brave hearts, but compassions. Mikoto had realized that they somewhat feared him, like a herd of rabbits cowering before a single sleeping lion. The sight was ironically hilarious.
A female nurse in her thirties stepped forward and coughed to get his attention. "I believe so. I was the one who reported it. The patient was looking outside the window when I came in, approximately at five in the morning. When he noticed me, he turned his head to see me. After that, I went to call the doctor in charge, but he started to doze off by the time we arrived. Since then, he hasn't woken up."
The most senior-looking doctor among them stepped up and added, "In most cases, the comatose patients who have regained their consciousness will gradually increase their waking time unless a complication halts the progress. But on the first days, there is a tendency to remain asleep in majority of their time. We can't tell you when he will precisely wake up, but by following the trend, we hope that his state will improve."
Mikoto nodded absentmindedly, already distracting himself by observing Munakata's pale complexion. He dragged a chair just beside the wall to the bedside, and settled down on it without a care to the world. If the doctors found him to be a nuisance, they had to live with it. There was no way he could allow Munakata to see the stranger faces when he opened his violet eyes again to the world. There was so many apology and objection he had to tell the latter. They were just at the tip of his tongue that the urge to spill it out like a broken dam was just too great.
As he expected, the team was staring at him in disbelief, marveled at his rudeness for already standing in their way for performing examinations. It was not as if they would refuse a patient's acquaintance to stay inside the room when they were doing their job, but Mikoto's presence gave too much pressure and the atmosphere became so tense that most of the doctors felt uncomfortable under his intense, challenging glare. Thus in the end, they scurried out of the door.
When they were finally alone, Mikoto shifted his eyes to the sleeping king. "Come on, Munakata. It's so unlike you to get lazy after sleeping for a year. Get up already."
As if an alarm clock went off inside him, something prodded his consciousness, forcing him to arouse from his sleep. His eyelids felt heavy and his muscles screamed in protest even with a flinch. The light was blindingly hurt even with closed eyelids that he had to squint while adjusting to the uncomfortable luminosity. His mind was pure white, as if someone had just completely erased every history in it. Although his vision was still blurry with the fog of sleep, the first thing he saw was the unfamiliar ceiling.
However, the room felt different than before, when he was awaken for the first time. It was still the same compartment for certain, but it felt more vibrant, with something alive in it. The most obvious thing he noticed, the sunlight had entered through his opened window. The breeze was a little bit chilly, but when it gently stroked his cheeks and swayed his hairs, he felt more alive than before, basking in the stirring sensation. From the periphery of his eyes, he caught the color of pulsating scarlet, just as beautiful as the color of sunset that he held his breath at its magnificence. As he turned his head to face the guest sitting beside him, he noticed the man was nodding off with crossed arms, as if fighting off the slumber he could not resist.
The sight somewhat brought involuntary smile to his face. His brain still felt muddy that in his heart, he understood that he should recognize this man, but he could not make the connection of he was to him. How could he, when he had not recalled his own identity? He wondered if he should feel anxious for being unable to remember, but only the sense of tranquility entered him.
Munakata took a deep inhale and shifted to curl on his side to face Mikoto so he could stare at his sleeping face, as if watching could help him to regain his memories. The ambience around him fell into equilibrium-like, full of something lively and something constant, to his comfort. However, it did not take him long before the air turned cold against his skin, that he could not resist a sneeze. He tried to suppress the sound, hoping that it would not awaken the sleeping one and let the time to remain still between them, but apparently his effort was futile.
A pair of golden eyes was suddenly focused at him once he recovered, bewildered with disbelief and he swore those orbs were glistening like the clear water of the calm lake. Munakata could not understand why, but he felt like they both fell into a state of stalemate. None of them dared to move, he even wondered if any of them remembered to breathe as they were looking at each other as if searching for inexistent answer.
A new, uninvited wave of exhaustion started to flood in that his eyes began to flutter close. Munakata tried to shrug it off because he still wanted to entertain his eyes with colors and hopefully his ears with the voice of the man in front of him, but the temptation was too great. However, before he could plunge back to the solitary dream again, a pair of strong arms was on his shoulders, shaking him roughly. The man with his vermillion-colored hair kept yelling for a familiar name to his mind, effectively putting him back to be vigilant.
Once Munakata's mauve eyes were fixed on him again, Mikoto sighed in relief and pulled the latter to his embrace, running his hand on the soft blue strands endearingly. "Don't sleep on me again now," whispered Mikoto to Munakata's ear as he buried his face on those soft lock, inhaling the familiar scent of Munakata tainted with a whiff of antiseptic.
Munakata made a strangled noise behind his throat as a response as he leant against Mikoto at ease. But before he could enjoy the feeling of secure, Mikoto kept him at arm-length and stared hard at him, asking him anxiously a question he could not comprehend, "Do you still remember what has happened? Do you remember anything?"
He tilted his head in response, questioningly. He could not grasp the question at all and the alarmed tone in Mikoto's voice also irritated him. It was as if Mikoto was reprimanding him for something he could not help. He could already sense the ripple of splitting headache around the corner should he forced his brain to recall any fragment of jumbled memories and the looming threat frightened him. All he wanted was to return to the soothing space inside Mikoto's arms but obviously Mikoto denied him that luxury and it made him angry.
He trashed mildly to break free, glowering at the sight of Mikoto, to Red King's surprise. Mikoto could not understand the change of behavior and the sudden temper of Munakata. He tried to recall anything helpful from the medical staff, but then he remembered that none of them ever mentioned what might happen when a prolonged comatose patient woke up since none of them had a sliver of hope of Munakata ever opening his eyes. He clicked his tongue in annoyance before he yanked Munakata back to his embrace, constraining him before he could hurt himself accidentally.
Eventually Munakata ceased down his feeble retaliation as fatigue washed over him. Mikoto released him when he heard a steady, soft breathing noise and watched as the blue-haired king began to doze off. "Oi, Munakata," said Mikoto firmly with a gentle shake on Munakata's shoulders, snapping him out of his reverie. But this time, Munakata looked increasingly distressed to keep awake with a deep frown burrowed on his forehead. After releasing a suffering sigh, Mikoto tucked the latter back to the bed and pulled up the blanket up to his chin with a gentle pat. "Fine. We'll talk later."
Munakata replied with a fleeting smile before he closed his eyes again and a faint snore followed quickly. Mikoto was just about to stand up and leave the room to notify the staffs, but then he felt a weak tug. He fought a smile from escaping his lips as he saw a fair-skinned hand remained grasping the edge of his white shirt.
Munakata was covering his yawn with his hand and rubbed his sleepy eyes when the room was overcrowded with people he did not recognize. He was sitting on the bed, leaning his back and his weight on the bed board, looking distracted. When he was awake, on his one side, his doctors lined up neatly while standing close to the bed. On the other side, there was a young teenager in his black-clad school uniform sitting next to him and an elder with white hairs wearing traditional Japanese outfit colored with gold. They were holding a discussion in front of him for a while, and it seemed that they were conversing about him, but somehow he could only catch fragments of their conversations and he did not understand most of it. He did try to comprehend what was happening to him, but after five minutes which he could not hold his concentration without having several seconds of blank mind, he just gave up and returned back to doze off sluggishly.
Although those two strangers were busy in paying attention to the white-coated people, the first man he saw ever since he woke up seemed to never avert his golden eyes from him. It made him a little uncomfortable under such intense gaze, but he learned to shrug it off after a while.
"That's really fantastic that he finally wakes up." Weismann lopsidedly grinned, giving a meaningful look to Mikoto. "We probably still have a lot of to do with his adjustment, but I guess we have nothing to worry about? The only problem is, the Red King tells us that our patient here seems to have…minor change in behavior."
"Don't glaze it over, Weismann. He is oblivious and vulnerable." The Gold King interjected, averting his glowering eyes to the silver-haired teen.
The senior doctor cleared his throat before he proceeded with his explanation. "The temporary behavioral change is often reported in prolonged comatose patients, especially with the history of head injury. Some of them may show amnesia, but the severity and its reversibility speed differs from each individual. The patient right now is showing the symptoms of amnesia. In consequence, he forgets the memories and life experiences which define him before the accident. Metaphorically speaking, he is a clean slate paper right now, until he can regain his memories back."
"How should he get back his memories then?" Mikoto crossed his arms in front of his chest, letting out a tiny sigh of relief. At least nothing was life-threatening. Munakata might be different and everything that Mikoto once loved seemed to vanish in a blink of eye, but at least he was alive and there was still likelihood for him to return to the Blue King he had known and loved.
Moreover, Munakata deliberately behaved so openly docile to him that this change of pace did not seem so bad once in a while. He would not be able to experience it again after all once Munakata reverted back to his original self; prideful and independent. Mikoto concluded he should take the opportunity to the fullest that he might be able to use these moments to tease the latter once he regained his memories.
"We can only let him recover his memories in his own pace. Talking to him, showing photos or living the usual routine can help to jog his memory."
"Then it will be better if we allow his Clansmen to visit him," Weismann replied with a pointed look at his friend, "I know that you're just thinking about the Blue King's safety, that's why you restrict their visiting hours. But situation has changed, and he spends most of his time with his Clansmen before everything happened. You can't keep them out if you want him to resume his position soon."
The Gold King made a noise of understanding and nodded in approval, "Fine. As long as he is under surveillance 24/7, I'll give my permission, effective from tomorrow. Now that he is awake, no matter how weak he is at the moment, he should at least be able to perceive danger and alert the guards in time of emergency. How long will he need before he can be discharged?"
The doctor glanced at Munakata who felt the stare and watched the man in white coat questioningly. "We will begin with intense rehabilitation to return his independence in daily life routine and see the progress from there. If there is no complication following, hopefully he can go home in a matter of days."
"Captain!"
A chorus gasps filled with joy echoed in the room. Munakata was sitting on the bed with Mikoto beside him near the window when he snapped his head toward the large number of guests in surprise. He barely had time to adjust with sudden crowd when suddenly the men in blue uniforms lunged forward to him and few of them hugged him altogether like a giant snowman. Although it felt awkward since he did not really remember them despite the sense of familiarity and this team hug was hurting him, but a happiness and relief bubbled from inside him that he gave a soft laugh and returned the embrace.
Eventually Domyoji pulled back and looked worried again, "Is it true that you lost your memories? That you don't remember us?"
"You better don't ask him that. Every time someone asks that question, he suffers headache and goes back to sleep." Mikoto interrupted their teary reunion with crossed arms and pointed look at Munakata's subordinates. Munakata lowered his eyes, looking slightly guilty but said nothing.
"O-oh, sorry, Captain. I didn't know." Domyoji pulled his hands away from his king as if his touch could burn him. "But we're glad that you are okay!"
Fushimi shifted uncomfortably as he stood behind the group, next to Awashima that earned a questioning look from lieutenant, who was quite considerably relieved at the sight of her Captain faring well. "What's wrong, Fushimi?"
The voice of Awashima grabbed Domyoji's immediate attention and the young officer suddenly shot up and pointed his finger at Fushimi with wicked grin, "I win! Now you have to fulfill your end at our bet!"
Awashima tilted her head, "What kind of bet?"
Fushimi turned his head to the side to hide his embarrassment and discomfort that Akiyama decided to help him with a little laugh. "They made a bet if Captain will wake up in three days or not. If he loses, he will do his report properly. But if he wins, Fushimi has to hug Captain. Surprisingly, it's Domyoji's win."
The blonde lieutenant snorted a laugh and chuckled politely. If it was a normal condition, she would have reprimanded them for making such a silly bet, but at the moment, happiness was an understatement on how she felt and a little bit fun would not hurt that she decided to go along with it. "Well, Fushimi, a man should not back out from his promise."
Fushimi clicked his tongue, frustrated and quickly strode across the room until he stood just next to his oblivious Captain and his colleagues moved aside to make way for him with amused look. He swore that he would get them back for teasing him in public like this. He could only wish that when Munakata regained his memories, this shameful moment would be erased instead, or else the evil man would certainly bring it up often to pull his leg. The mauve eyes stared up at him curiously and Fushimi spent a few seconds in reluctance. He heaved a deep sigh as if bracing himself for the hardest hurdle he ever faced.
He quickly pulled his Captain to an awkward hug and as fast as he hugged him, he pulled back and dashed out of the room with flustered face and dark glare on Domyoji before he left. Akiyama only laughed weakly while his friend shivered at the looming threat of pain.
Mikoto only looked amused at the little game in front of his face. It was not often to see Fushimi to be flustered and furious like that. No matter how much they teased him back then in Homra, they failed to get any reaction further than a scoff besides Yata.
"Fushimi…Saruhiko?" Munakata tried with his hoarse voice as he watched the vanishing figure, looking a little bit confused before he brightened up as if a realization dawned on him.
The Scepter 4 members were astonished at the moment before they rushed back to his side. Akiyama started hopefully, "Captain! Do you remember us!?"
Munakata lifted his finger to point at the blonde before he smiled a little, "Awashima."
Her blue eyes glistened with pooled tears as Awashima gasped and covered her mouth with her hands before she moved forward and took Munakata's hand in hers, saying with shaky voice, "Captain, I'm so glad."
"Does it mean that he starts remembering?" Enomoto exchanged curious glance with Hidaka, but the latter only shook his head with uncertainty. But the sound of chair clattering to the floor gained their attention and all of them turned their heads in shock to find Mikoto glowering at their Captain with a transparent ire and a hint of betrayal, who in return only watched back at the fiery golden eyes impassively. Seri tensed up, as well as the rest of Scepter 4, preparing herself to defend her king in case Mikoto would unleash his violence inside a patient's room, but the moment never came. He did not say anything when Mikoto circled around the bed and left the room in silence, leaving Seri dumbfounded and stupefied at what had just happened.
Izumo took a deep inhale of cigarette as he leant against a pillar in front of the hospital while Anna played with the seam of her red dress as she sat on the lobby stair. The outpatient lobby was almost empty as the sun had setting down and most of the hospital activities had been limited to emergencies. He was picking up his best friend at the hospital under Anna's personal request, but he did not expect to see the dark shadow on Mikoto's face once he found him sitting in the hospital bench alone outside the building.
"I think you're jealous that he remembers them, but not you." Izumo sighed with a frown as he blurted out blatantly, "But it's to be expected. He spent most of his time with them because of work and they are his clansmen."
Mikoto made a noise like an agreement, but he did not look any happier. He knew that he should be pleased that Munakata at least had regained his consciousness, with or without memories after a long-waited year and he owed a gratitude for what the latter had done one year ago for Tatara. But he could not deny the disappointment that sunk in the pit of his stomach when he heard the name of Fushimi and Awashima escaping Munakata's lips, but not his.
Despite his bitterness, he understood that the reason for it was his and Munakata's to blame. They made such a convenient relationship, without name or attachment. Mikoto only met him when they coincidentally encountered each other in public places, or when he created a havoc that required Scepter 4 to be dispatched. Even when they were unconsciously entangled in each others' arms after sex, they were not typically vocal in sharing their personal lives unless the topic came up. Munakata would always blabber tirelessly on how careless or vulgar Mikoto was, but he would not share any part of his personal life with Mikoto. In contrary, Mikoto was not one to speak unless a question was thrown at him and he felt like answering it. In short, their communication was quite lacking and pathetically flawed. There was nothing much between them. With such brittle affiliation, how could he ask the impossible for Munakata to remember him more than his own people? Nevertheless, he still could not get rid the murky feeling like envy swarming inside.
"Don't you think that this is your chance if you want to do something about it? He doesn't remember anything means that you can start over." Izumo pushed himself from the pillar and stood beside Mikoto, putting his hand on Mikoto's shoulder before he walked down the stairs. Anna rose and dusted off her dress and trotted to Mikoto's side, asking gently, "Are you coming with us?"
Mikoto gazed down at her beautiful ruby eyes for a good moment before he shook his head and patted her head with his hand. "No, you go first. I'll catch up later."
Her face fell a little in disappointment, but she nodded and leapt off the flight of stairs to Izumo's side.
Mikoto did not waste his time before he whirled around on his heel and put his hands in his pockets as he walked back inside the hospital with an unwavering look.
Munakata had just woken up from his short nap to find himself alone in the room. His guests probably thought that they should leave him to get his rest when he fell asleep during their visit. His violet eyes instinctively searched for the man with scarlet hair in the room, but there was no other presence but him in the room. He wondered if Mikoto was still furious at him for reason he could not phantom.
Although his memory about Mikoto was vague and he still doubted him, he would not deny the longing when Mikoto was not there. He sighed involuntarily and stared hollowly at the forlorn twilight from the window.
He jolted in surprise at the creaking sound of opened door, only to see Mikoto appearing from the slit of the entrance.
"Good, so you're still awake." Mikoto slipped in and closed the door behind him before he came close to hospital bed. He dragged one of the chairs to sit on it beside the pristine white bed sheet.
"Are you still angry?" He asked in croaking voice. After a year without using his vocal cord, he sounded like shattering glass every time he talked that he could not help but wince as he listened to it.
"What?"
Munakata rolled his eyes as he asked in accusing tone, "You walked out this afternoon looking like you would kill someone."
Mikoto chuckled. He lifted his hand to reach out and run his fingers along Munakata's side bang and kissed it tenderly, "I guess I did."
"Why?" Munakata asked absent-mindedly. He pulled back a little to keep the distance between them as a discomfort feeling swelled inside him, like fluttering butterflies inside his stomach, with how close Mikoto's face to his. However, Mikoto's grasp on his strands kept him in place. His violet eyes shifted to anywhere else other than those piercing golden ones.
"Because I love you." Mikoto said briefly.
The Red King smiled bitterly when the blue-haired man in front of him froze. He continued, "I know that you don't remember anything, so you can't answer it. So I'll tell you instead."
Munakata hesitantly glanced at him, "Were we in relationship?"
"No," Mikoto pondered for a bit and corrected himself, "I don't know. It's complicated."
"But I don't know you at all. When those officers visited, I vaguely recalled them, but not you."
"Wow, you sure you don't remember? Even with amnesia, your cynicism still sticks around." Mikoto replied with an amused scoff while Munakata blushed in shame at the criticism. "I don't blame you. We are not going out. It was just a conventional relationship."
"Con…ventional?" He tried slowly.
"That means that we are just using each other to get off." Mikoto explained with an even expression. In contrary, the red color in Munakata's cheek only grew deeper and he nearly choked. Munakata squeaked as he protested, "Do you really have to say it crudely like that?"
Mikoto brushed his comment off and took Munakata's hands in his, "I'm sick of lies and secrets. I love you."
"What kind of answer are you expecting from me?" Munakata peeled his eyes away from Mikoto. "I don't remember you. I might never get my memories back."
Mikoto fell into silence as he felt the insecurities from Munakata before he took his hands and clasped them in his. "You will. The doctors said so."
Munakata tentatively gazed up to look at Mikoto. Mikoto's declaration was the last thing he expected to hear, the moment he entered the room. If anything, he was not prepared to answer such confession. But it piqued his interest. What kind of answer the old him would give to Mikoto? What kind of person he was back then and why would they keep such heartless relationship? While he was dying to know, it scared him to find out since he had a glimpse of impression that he was a callous man from the way the people, who introduced themselves as his subordinates, and Mikoto talked to him. "Why would you like someone coldhearted like me?"
"You're just socially impaired." Mikoto laughed, to Munakata's annoyance. "If you're coldhearted, you won't bother with me. You won't save Tatara's life at the risk of your own."
"I don't understand what you're talking about." Munakata answered, deadpanned.
Mikoto sighed, "You don't have to. I just need to say it."
"If that's the case, I don't have to give you an answer for your confession, do I?"
Mikoto frowned. He scowled right away, "I take back my words. You're coldhearted."
"So you don't love me anymore?" Munakata asked as he feigned a hurt expression. Mikoto rolled his eyes and snorted, "You have to do more than that to make me not to love you."
Mikoto put his fingers on Munakata's chin to lift his head up before he quickly closed off the distance between them and clamped his lips on the other. His other hand snaked into the back of Munakata's neck to keep him still while pushing the latter backward until Munakata's back was on the soft bed sheet.
His first instinct was to retaliate, but then the kiss certainly did not feel like it was his first time. He recognized the pleasant pressure as their lips met each other and the moaning sound escaping them. He knew by heart the sultry touch of Mikoto's lips and the softness of Mikoto's crimson hair between his fingers as he returned the kiss. Something prodded inside his mind noisily as he indulged his desire, like he could see a glimpse of fractured and fragmented memories, but they were still beyond his reach.
When they pulled back, they were gasping and panting softly, desperate for air. Munakata could not help but chuckling, "This definitely feels familiar. Was this a part of conventional relationship you are talking about?"
"Yeah. Should we go all the way so you might remember?" Mikoto smirked mischievously.
Munakata swore he saw a wicked glint inside those golden orbs. He narrowed his eyes and said coldly, "My intuition tells me to say no and not to trust you."
"Yeah, you shouldn't." Mikoto sniggered before he tilted his head again to recapture his prize for his patience after a year.
Okay, here is another lie. This is not the last chapter, hahahah…I can't put all these into one final chapter apparently. So, yeah, there will be next chapter, and this time it will really be the last one. This one is probably the longest chapter ever throughout the whole story.
Viviane1993: I'm really the worst, aren't I? To keep you waiting for so long like this…I'm sorry, Viviane! T_T Please believe me that I haven't abandoned this fic. My free time flies away from me, and I haven't managed to get them back, so…please forgive me. *kneels on the floor*
Poisonandink: and yeah, please let me remind you that you still haven't updated your fic…*cries in the corner of your bedroom to nag* I've been so looking forward to it too…sniff…
AkiFushi: Yeah, and now he is totally in game now! XD I think this chapter is too dedicated to MikoRei. Oh yeah, though I can't make Fushimi to tackle-hug him or bear-hug him because it would be too adorable and I will get stabbed to death by Fushimi's lover by writing OOC. Since I can't write next chapter if I died miserably, I have to alter it. But srsly, you tempted me so much, so a little part of SaruRei in this chapter is your fault. LOL, thanks for the inspiration~
Hitomi65: Thanks~! I hope you will enjoy the next chapter too…I hope…
Anaidreh: Hello Aang dear! Long time no see! (and that's my fault, lol) Like always, I hope you're still around to read this fic…I'm so sorry for always making you wait so long for an update T_T
Ryu: Lol, yeah, forgive my grammatical and vocabulary errors. XDD As much as I want to blame English for not being my mother language (and the world to have so many languages around), but it will be lame of me to keep making that excuse. :D I will try to lessen them. *cross-fingers* I hope despite all that, I still can get the message crossed and hope you will still be able to enjoy reading it~ Please don't hesitate to tell me if there are fatal errors that confuses the readers. Having an editor is nice, fufufu. :D
: Whoa, hello there~! Thank you for leaving a review. I'm sorry for not being able to update sooner, but I hope you will forgive me with this new chapter ^_^
