A Valentine's Special

Red Love

February 14th, 2010

In all his days, Izumo had seen a lot of suspicious characters, shady delinquents and men with bad intentions. But nothing unsettled him quite like the sight of HOMRA's ladies marching through the front door of his bar with fixed expressions. First, it was Neirah, her intense gaze locked on the reverse of his bar beneath thick, bouncing bangs and her arms wrapped around, what appeared to be, a stuffed paper bag. Then, like a pale shadow, Anna trailed after her, eyes equally as focussed and fingers equally as full as silver hair whispered like a sheer curtain behind her shoulders. Like ants parading, they waltzed right past him towards the kitchen like he wasn't standing right there, like the kitchen was theirs to take, and it was terribly unnerving.

"All right…" he muttered apprehensively. He pivoted with their trespass and watched Neirah cross behind the bar first, receiving the notion that she was avoiding him on purpose. "Where're you ladies off to with the bags?"

Neirah's command was swift and uttered frigidly on glossy lips. "Kitchen."

Taking insult, Izumo watched the livewire pass by, sputtering like he'd been shot through the heart. Anna offered little to no condolence before following her big sister through the revolving, saloon-style shutter and mildly parroting her retort. "Kitchen."

His brow creased deeply over a vexed expression as he watched the door sway a couple of times. Then, conceding that they weren't going to offer him any more insight, he pushed his way through. He was almost afraid to ask. "Okay, Neirah. What have you done?"

From a table on the other side of the room, Saruhiko watched through an incredulous leer as Izumo allowed Anna's tiny hands to shove him right out the way he'd come. Afterwards, Neirah popped her head out only momentarily before tacking a Do Not Disturb sign on the front of the kitchen entrance. A light snort denoting amusement filled his chest as he watched Izumo hitch one hand on his hip, using the other to scratch at his nape as he considered the barrier erected. "I guess we know who's really in charge around here."

Dropping his hand against his thigh, Izumo growled lowly and rapped his knuckles on his own kitchen gate. The mere consideration was utterly absurd and had his brow tightening with irritation as he bowed his head. "Neirah, let me in."

"No."

His tone flattened. "Neirah…"

"We're doing things."

His muscles tightened with the resistance it took to keep him from raising his voice. "In case you've forgotten, this is a place of business. I'm gonna need the kitchen at some point."

"For what?"

Izumo felt the edges of his sanity smouldering, and any moment it was going to burst into flame. "For what-? I don't know. It could be as small as something to wipe the tables down with."

A long blink passed over Saruhiko's eyes as he observed the tiny Strain child floating out through the doors with a rag, gently handing it off to Izumo before retreating into the kitchen with her sister. If his low chuckle wasn't enough to get Misaki's attention next to him, the sharp nudge to his friend's ribcage was. "I get the feeling you're going to want to see this."

Typically, Izumo considered himself a relatively stable gentleman who would like to think that he eagerly respected women when they requested space, but this was ludicrous. When his fist clenched around the rag in his hand as delivered by Neirah's carrier pigeon, the cotton suddenly burst into flame before vanishing without a trace. "Damn it, Neirah…" he ground out. Straightening with a challenging smirk, he stepped forward. "Ya think you're pretty smart, eh?"

Without another moment of hesitation, Izumo slammed his palm against the kitchen door and stormed in with an irritated scowl on his face. "That's it. What exactly do you two think you're doing in here?" he commanded. "I'm gonna need a little more than things."

Abruptly, Izumo froze, laying his gaze down to observe the assortment of confectionery ingredients laid out over his posh stainless-steel countertops. "E-eh? What is all this?"

Neirah let Anna's stern gaze go on the attack while she continued to separate the content of their haul, and all Izumo could do was pray that their lion's lousy attitude wasn't corrupting the child. Neirah didn't once redirect her interest as she counted out ingredients and arranged them according to their anticipated order of use. "What does it look like, Onii-chan?"

"It looks like a goddamned disaster waiting to happen," he reasoned brusquely. "Why can't you do this at home?"

She sighed and peeled her hair back out of her face, folding her shaggy bangs into the ponytail she began to bind tightly atop her crown. "Hm, I wonder," she susurrated sarcastically.

"Yeah, me too." Stifling his temper, Izumo moved to step by Anna, who put up her dainty point-guard stance. She stepped with his advance a couple of times to block him before he got frustrated and picked her up by the shoulders, ignoring her slight gasp as he set her to one side before crossing.

"Alright, let's start over," he reasoned soundly. That took great effort on his part. "And I suggest you begin by asking me properly if you can confiscate my kitchen for the afternoon."

Neirah allowed her rubber hair tie to snap like it was an accurate portrayal of her bubbling ire. "Properly?" she mocked sardonically. "I didn't know a mutiny required such formalities."

"A little apologetic grovelling might be satisfying, too, while you're at it."

Finally, Neirah turned away from her diligent work and faced her aggravated superior directly. "Kusanagi-san, do you have any idea how hard it was to get Tat-chan and King-sama out of our way for the next couple hours?"

Izumo seemed vexed as he looked deep into the intensity of her tapered leer. "I can't imagine that it was very difficult at all."

"Exactly," she instigated. "And I don't expect you to be any different."

Misaki's eyes widened on the sight of the kitchen door as Neirah shoved Izumo back out in a similar style to how Anna had moments prior. His fists struck the table so powerfully that the impact made the bowl of mixed nuts in the centre jump as Saruhiko picked out the pieces in the assortment he deemed acceptable for consumption. "What the hell?!" Misaki didn't hold back his laughter. Instead, he toppled right out of his chair, clutching his sides. "Shit! Did you see that?! Kusanagi-san just got manhandled by a couple a' chicks!"

Saruhiko flinched when Misaki's uproar caused Izumo to turn his wrath on the entertained vanguard. He crunched one final time on his snack before determining that he may have initiated something unfortunate. "Uh, Misaki? Maybe you should stop laughing now."

"What? Why!? That was hilar-io-us! Did you see the look on his-?!" Misaki gagged on his outburst as his collar was captured. He watched the ground grow distant as Izumo hoisted him into the air, dragging him next to his partner towards the kitchen before pitching them both inside.

"Alright, boys. Seeing as you clearly have nothing better to do, you're on pest control. Get them out of my kitchen," Izumo commanded callously. "If you don't, you'll be defending HOMRA's front dishwashing line for the rest of the week."

Not long after the command had been issued, Rikio walked into the bar to the sound of a destructive uproar coming from within the establishment's kitchen. Before he opened his mouth to question the ruckus, he watched Saruhiko and Misaki fall out of the doorway with agonized hisses. He motioned to open his mouth again when Misaki scrambled on all fours towards the slab, bursting through it and announcing his charge like a war cry.

"Damn it! I'm not lettin' a buncha girls put me on dishwashing duty!"

Rikio's gaze didn't leave the still doorway as he listened to Saruhiko curse bitterly under his breath on the other side, but that made it awkward for him to feel his way into a seat at the bar. "Uh… Somethin' the matter…?"

Izumo kept his eyes closed, his expression as relaxed as he could muster while he polished his delicate glassware to the sound of Neirah's livid roar of retaliation.

"First of all, one girl will be more than enough to put you on your skinny behind."

Sure enough, Misaki came flying back through the door, bowling over Saruhiko in the process as Neirah stuck her head out after him.

"And second, if you get stuck washing dishes, it will be all Onii-san's fault, not mine!" Noticing Rikio sitting at the bar in front of the tender who was trying not to dwell on the commotion, her cheeks warmed, and her smile broadened with welcoming. "Rikio! Just in time!" she purred affectionately. "Can you do me a small favour and keep these two out of my hair?"

Rikio's tone faltered as he watched her sporty ponytail bob. "Ah… sure thing, Neirah," he conceded. "But uh… why?"

"Oh, no reason," she cooed. Just then, her tone snapped irately back into beast-mode when she whirled to address Misaki, who was done licking his wounds and preparing for round three. "And you two, stay out!"

Misaki glowered at the sight of her trying to slam the door behind her only to have it wave frantically back and forth. It looked like it was mocking him like a red flag in front of a bull, the Do Not Disturb sign flapping in the breeze. Toro. Then he saw red. "Alright, it's go-time!" he snarled upon bunching up his sleeve. "I WON'T LOSE!"

When Rikio locked both of his arms beneath Misaki's to hold him back, the youth scrambled violently, trying to break down the revolving door just as brashly as Neirah had slammed it. "Oi! Lemme go, fatass! This is between me and the lion!"

"What's gotten into you today?!" Rikio thundered. "Calm down, would ya?! You know things've been rough for Nē-chan lately, what with her dad and all."

"That's no reason for her to be acting like a spoiled brat." The way that Izumo raised his voice made it easy for Neirah to hear his stern proclamation even over Misaki's disturbance. "What's the matter, Yata-chan?" he instigated cunningly. "You gonna take that from a girl?"

"H-hell no!"

In response, Rikio tightened his hold on the fiery spirit with a nervous groan. "Kusanagi-san, you're just making things worse!"

Tsk. From where he remained calmly seated on the ground, Saruhiko diverted his gaze across the floor. "Kusanagi told us that if we can't get Tsukiyo out of his kitchen, we'll be doing dishes all week."

"And I ain't gonna sit here doing girly stuff like dishes when there're bad guys to rough up in Mikoto-san's territory!"

Even after recoiling to the elevation of Misaki's tone, Rikio's wry and somewhat impatient expression tightened expectantly like his grip on the squirmy ginger. "What're you sayin' there, Yata-san? That only girls do dishes?"

"No!" Misaki snapped irately. "It's just that it's enough of a pain doin' Saru's all the time! I don't need to do them here when there's other cool stuff goin' down!"

Saruhiko cringed to think that their life outside HOMRA was any of Rikio's business. "Personally, I don't think he'll survive to be put on dish-duty," Saruhiko heaved out exasperatedly. The lean man made it look like an effort to climb to his feet and walk away, but with Rikio involved, his interest in the situation dwindled. "You should let him go back in there. If Tsukiyo gets her fill of fresh meat, she might be less irritable. Though, I don't know how much meat she's going to get off someone like Yata. So much for those vegetables."

"Hey, screw you!"

Rikio's hold faltered on Misaki for a moment to the sound of Saruhiko's awkward demand. "Jeez, couldn't you have found a less creepy way to say that?"

With a hearty sigh, Izumo dropped his gaze in surrender and set down his diligent work. "Alright, that's enough, Yata," he interrupted disappointedly. "Just let them be." He picked up a second glass and proceeded to polish the fingerprints off its reflective surface. "You know how she is. Once she puts her heart into somethin', there's no stoppin' her."

Shrugging his way out of Rikio's grasp, Misaki clamoured against the bar to attract Izumo's direct attention. Once he was near, he flopped over the hardwood lifelessly and grumbled his dismay. "Wait- does that mean we're stuck with the dishes?"

"Don't worry about the dishes." Izumo tilted a small yet reassuring smile Misaki's way to calm the riled vanguard. "By the looks of things, Neirah's gonna be scrubbing until next week to make up for the mess she's about to make."

More interested than ever, Rikio reclaimed his seat to discuss the blanks he'd wanted to be filled. "Just what is she up to in there, anyway?"

Despite how stressed he'd become just imagining the chaos he would walk into at the day's end, Izumo couldn't help but smile. "Did you all forget what day it is?"

Misaki was leaning on his folded forearms against the bar with his toes barely touching the floor, and Rikio was staring vacantly through Izumo from where he sat across from him. Both alerted to the same realization at the same time.

"Oh yeah!" Misaki proclaimed brightly. "Today's Totsuka-san's birthday isn't it?!"

Rikio's expression illuminated with delight. "Hah! Right! I bet they're totally makin' him a cake! Awe man, I'm all excited now!"

With a dim grunt, a disbelieving Izumo slowly shook his head. "And?"

Misaki startled apprehensively. "A-and… uh…"

"Is it a chocolate cake…?" Rikio suggested eagerly.

From where he had reclaimed his seat, throwing inadequate offerings out of the party mix left on his table, Saruhiko snorted derisively at Izumo's games. "It's Valentine's Day." He lowered his tone in a mocking manner before adding his retort under his breath. "Your virginity's showing."

As usual, Misaki's sharp senses still managed to pick up on Saruhiko's muffled rebuttals even though he tried to conceal them. Though, sometimes he wondered if that wasn't on purpose. "Oi! We've been friends for a pretty long time, and I don't remember you ever havin' a girlfriend either, Monkey!"

Tsk.

Izumo snapped his fingers and left his pointed index to shoot their attention towards Saruhiko's blunt interruption. "Bingo," he purred. "As usual, Fushimi's absolutely right. Today is Valentine's Day and Totsuka's birthday. And by the looks of their haul, Anna-chan and Neirah are in the process of manufacturing their own honmei chocolates."

After whirling to face their host, Misaki's expression paled, at first, and then flushed with a deep crimson shade so hot that he had to cover his face with his hands to moderate the temperature. "H-honmei?! B-but that's-"

"You should be excited, Misaki," Saruhiko hollered across the room sassily. "Your girlfriend is putting a lot of effort into you today."

"S-shut up, stupid monkey!"

"This is serious," Rikio rumbled soberly. Even if he tried to remain casual, Izumo still caught the faintest of blushes peeking out from beneath his sunglasses. "Does Nē-chan even know how to make chocolates." He folded his arms over his chest with a low hum of consideration. "I should help her."

A startled bark coughed out of Rikio's lungs as Misaki sucker-punched him out of his seat. "Dumbass! W-what if you're the one she's m-makin' 'em for?!"

Rikio groaned against the floor before poking his head back up over the bar. "W-well, I wouldn't complain."

Misaki struck him again before turning his wild eyes towards Izumo. "K-Kusanagi-san! W-we can't just let her do that, r-right?! I m-mean, y-you said it yourself! S-she can't d-date yet!"

"What is your problem all of a sudden?!" Rikio whinged. "I thought you were over this kinda stuff?"

"Yes. What're you so worked up about, Misaki?" Saruhiko pried. "Afraid you're actually gonna get some?"

Misaki knew that Saruhiko was likely referring to the chocolate, but he couldn't help boiling over with wrathful humility and throwing a look full of malice. "N-nobody asked you!"

With a soft growl, Rikio raised again and rubbed the goose egg forming on his head. "To be honest, I'm more worried she'll give them to the monkey."

Misaki was hyperventilating as he struck Rikio a third time, his heart rate inconsolable. "Not on your life!"

"Yata-san, you can't just hit people when you're embarrassed!"

A low growl caught behind Misaki's teeth before he dove for his friend with every intention of wringing his neck. "Oh yeah?! You gonna stop me!?"

Swift reflexes lurched over the bar and caught Misaki's collar before the boy could maul his friend. "Yata, stop acting like a damned lunatic," Izumo commanded evenly. "Isn't it obvious? Anna-chan and Neirah are making chocolates for Totsuka and Mikoto, albeit a little ironically, I'd say. It's got nothin' to do with you clowns."

"Y-you sure about that?" After he'd been freed, Misaki shuddered nervously and tried to sneak a peek around the kitchen door, flinching when a golden kunai whizzed past his head straight into the doorjamb on the other side.

"No peeking!"

Through cautious eyes contemplating fleeing, Rikio slowly watched Izumo circle the bar, pick Neirah's dagger out of the stained wood and examine the localized damage caused by the piece she'd expertly wedged between boards. It was the only reason why the man hadn't set the entire place on fire, but Rikio could tell that it was becoming difficult for his generally easygoing superior to shake off the conflict.

"Just let them be..." Izumo repeated the words more to himself than anyone in their company, and he did so in a low and quaky drone. "It'll all be over soon…"

On the other side of the blockade the girls had arranged, Neirah hummed musically to herself, and Anna recognized the tune from when they'd danced with a stranger in the street. The child was enjoying the comforting sound before Neirah was interrupted the moment Anna was splashed in the face by the rich dark chocolate from her mixer. Alerting to Anna's gentle huff, Neirah dusted the back of her wrist against the headband flattening her bangs into her high ponytail before rushing to her side. "Careful." She reached toward the surprised Strain and gently wiped the splatter from the girl's fair cheek before tasting their concoction. "Mmm, Anna-chan, this is delicious! Great job!"

"Really?" When Neirah dipped her finger into the chocolate on her spoon and held it towards the child, Anna slowly crept forward and tasted the sweet ganache. She didn't have quite the energy Neirah did behind her reaction, but her eyes did sparkle as she gasped her approval. "Yummy."

"So, this is what we're going to fill the shells with, okay?"

"Okay." As Anna parroted Neirah's command, she passed off her bowl and moved along the counter until she came to the arrangement of strawberries Neirah had prepared for the occasion. From the tips of her toes, Anna reached towards the back of the counter to retrieve one of the ripe fruits. "What about these?" She popped off the ledge and offered Neirah the sight of the berry she'd claimed. "Can we use these too?"

"Of course. That's what I bought them for, after all!" She finished setting a pot on the stove before arranging a stool for Anna. "Here, Anna. Come stand here." She helped the Strain onto the step and passed her a wooden spoon. "I'm going to cut the strawberries up and put them in the pot. Your job is to make sure the syrup doesn't burn on the bottom, so you have to keep stirring it, okay?"

Anna nodded frantically and obediently began to stir the mixture of ruby sugar water.

While lingering on her thoughts, Neirah's cheeks dusted a light pink as she began to slice the berries carefully. "If we do it right, this should make a sticky-sweet syrup that we can use to drizzle on top of the chocolates."

"It's a lovely red," Anna marvelled.

Turning over her shoulder, Neirah offered the child a playful wink. "That's the point!"

Anna watched as the strawberries fell into the pot, one by one, each vanishing into the bubbling sauce. At first, Neirah thought that the child was simply immensely focussed on the task that she was given, but soon, a gentle melancholy dampened her expression. "Anna-chan? Is everything alright?"

Anna's eyes remained centred on the sight of the fruit vanishing into the red, her thoughts rampant. "Why do they have to disappear?"

Neirah startled, faltering in her berry-chopping rhythms. "I-I'm sorry?"

"They're vanishing into the red. Why does the red have to make them all disappear?"

Soon, Neirah was slowing until she put down her knife entirely to keep herself from accidentally spilling her red into their production line. "What do you mean?"

"It reminds me of Mikoto," Anna continued softly. "When bad people try to cause trouble, Mikoto's red makes them disappear."

Neirah's brow knotted incredulously. "But Anna-chan, if they're bad, isn't it okay to make them disappear?"

Anna softly shook her head. "Maybe not. Maybe they don't know that they're bad."

All Neirah wanted to do was ask Anna if she thought that the strawberries were bad, but instead, she conceded that the child might have genuinely been bothered by their operations.

"Tatara says that Mikoto's powers aren't meant for destruction, but it can destroy. Is it okay to destroy things to protect other things? But then, who decides what needs to be destroyed or protected?"

Suddenly, Anna gasped to the feeling of Neirah embracing her from behind. After peeking Neirah's reassuring smile over her shoulder for just a moment, the girl continued to stir their brew. "These are matters for a king to worry about," Neirah reassured her kindly. "That's why we have to make him these sweet chocos, so he has lots of energy to make these important decisions."

"Mikoto makes them?"

"Well, that does sound like a king's responsibility, doesn't it?" Neirah giggled to try and set her partner at ease. "You shouldn't worry about these things, Anna-chan."

Anna sighed solemnly and returned to swirling. "I don't want Mikoto to be feared. Mikoto is kind."

Even as Neirah tried to reassure her, Anna's expression didn't brighten. "And that's why we'll celebrate him and our beautiful red today," Neirah whispered tenderly. "Not because he's scary or powerful, but because we love him. That's what today is all about, isn't it?"

Anna softly nodded her head.

Heaving a knowing sigh, Neirah returned to diligently chopping the strawberries. "King-sama gave us our powers so we could be free to choose our own path. What we do with them is our responsibility, and it's the same for him. If he wants to be feared, that is his choice." Her smile didn't fade as she gently scraped the meat of her fruit into the boiling pot to candy. "And if Anna-chan wants to save the strawberries, that is her choice."

With a gentle tut, Anna turned her bright eyes towards her big sister. "Onē-san is making fun."

"She is, a little," Neirah sassed. "But that's because she chooses to." Neirah bent at the hips and gently cleaned the chocolate smudge that remained on Anna's cheek with a damp cloth. "And it's Anna-chan's choice to laugh or not."

She didn't laugh, but the sunny child smiled in appreciation of her big sister's encouragement. She opened her arms to let Neirah know that she was ready to be returned to the floor, hugging her tightly as Neirah set her back on the tile. When Neirah crouched and backed away, their burning gazes connected and communicated in ways that only sisters knew how.

"What does Onē-san use her red for?"

A hesitant flicker caused Neirah's sights to blur with another dimension for a moment before she refocused her attention on the Strain. "That's an excellent question," she whispered. "One I wish I had an answer for."

Anna seemed disappointed. "You don't know?"

Neirah slowly released Anna's shoulders and draped her lax wrists between her crouched thighs. "I know what I want to use it for," she noted. "One day, I hope to use this power to do what I think is right, no matter what."

Anna watched the certainty in Neirah's eyes for a moment before the Strain pulled a red marble from her pocket and scrutinized her carefully. "But how does Onē-san know what's right?"

A calm smile curled Neirah's lips to consider the cunning child's words. "That's just it," she reasoned. "There might come a time where what I think is right, and what is truly just might not be the same." She reached out and gently took Anna's free hand in hers. "That's when I'll have to choose to use this power or not, and risk being feared."

Upon lowering her marble, Anna's pale brow knotted slightly with concern. "Does Onē-san want to be feared?"

After a moment of consideration, Neirah slowly shook her head. "I don't think anyone wants that, but I can't control other people's fear, only mine," she whispered tenderly. "But like our king, sometimes we're going to have to make important decisions about who we are and why we burn. King-sama is a good person, just like Anna-chan is a good person. So, if that reason is important enough to you, then it should be enough."

Once she'd returned her marble to her pocket, Anna gently slipped her second hand over where Neirah clutched hers, her gaze remaining locked with the thoughtful brunette's. "I think Onē-san is kind, just like Mikoto."

Stricken by the unexpected sentimentality of their encounter, Neirah closed her eyes and slowly tipped forward until her lips could dust Anna's soft silver bangs. "But just like Mikoto-sama, I would become a monster if it meant protecting you. Because in the end, you and everyone else in HOMRA are all that matters to me… just like our king."

Neirah's heart fluttered when Anna gently leaned forward in reciprocation and touched her tiny pout against the tan tip of Neirah's nose. She hoped that by the time she'd returned from Nagasaki, she had a better answer for the child, but in the meantime, she was satisfied with sneaking tender moments outside of everyone else's comprehension.

"All of our ingredients are ready," Neirah murmured kindly to distract their depressing thoughts. "Are you ready to make our special chocos?"

An eager Anna nodded her head rapidly. "I want to make mine red."

"I thought you might." With the wry cocking of one brow, Neirah whipped out a tiny vial of red food colouring with an almost sinister smirk on her face. "Let's paint the world a lovely red."

The expression twisting up the Red King's glower was intense as he leered at the kitchen door listening to the whimsical sound of girly chatter coming from the other side. He didn't know what disturbed him more, the sound of Anna's soft tone raising every now and then, or the joyous laughter of the sadist he'd watched wash the blood of men from her claws. Either way, his face was filled with suspicious tension as he received his drink from the bartender. "Do I want to know?"

"I guess it's supposed to be a surprise, so whether you're curious or not doesn't amount to much," Izumo casually informed him through an exasperated sigh.

"It sounds like they're having a lot of fun in there with whatever they're up to," Tatara reasoned with a hint of jealousy. "Maybe just a quick peek-"

"Stick your hand in there, and you're liable to lose it." Izumo tossed his head to one side to direct their attention to where Misaki was taking out his frustration on Saburōta for his meddlesome commentary. By the look of the heat flooding Misaki's cheeks, he still wasn't convinced that the ladies of their troop weren't crushing on someone special.

Finally, he turned his gaze back towards the crooked sign on his kitchen door, warning them that entry was forbidden. "They've been in there since you two left, so it's been a few hours now."

Mikoto turned his sober expression towards Tatara by his side, sizing him up appropriately before coming to a sovereign decision. "Totsuka, go ask them what they're doing."

"E-eh? King, you heard what Kusanagi-san said!" he brayed. "If I go in there, Lion-chan might chew my arm off!"

"You're good with animals, right?" Mikoto continued dryly. "Calm her down and ask her what the hell they're in there laughing about."

Tatara's expression thoughtfully faltered as he imagined what Anna might sound like if she were to laugh anything like what Neirah was capable of. "I think Nei-chan's the only one laughing."

"Totsuka-"

"A-ah! Alright, alright!"

"You can't just throw Totsuka into a lion pit to sate your curiosity," Izumo growled.

Mikoto looked back at his second like his refusal was outlandish. "What? Perks of being a king," he drawled.

"I think you have a skewed perception of your duties, Your Highness..."

Noticing that Tatara had climbed out of his seat and begun to approach the kitchen entry, Misaki stilled from where he'd twisted Saburōta up in agony. Both of their attention diverted to the view before the horde was scrambling across the bar floor in terror.

"Totsuka-san, don't do it!" Misaki commanded fretfully. "Tsukiyo is on a mission, and nothing can stop her when she's like that!"

"Sorry, Yata-chan. King's orders," Tatara sang. He held his flattened palm up to his brow with one hand in a casual salute before touching his fingers against the hardwood slab. "Don't worry! I'll be fine! It will all work out-"

Horrified, Misaki fled backwards with his fingers clawing at his own face when he watched the door burst open at Neirah's command. He lost sight of Tatara almost instantly afterward as the blur pounced and dove for the kill. "Totsuka-san!" he howled. "She got Totsuka-san!"

From nearby, Masaomi removed his hat to cross his chest with it. "He was a brave man."

"He just stuck his hand in a cage with a rabid lion," Yō muttered bleakly around a fresh cigarette.

"He was a foolish man." With a crooked grin, Masaomi returned his hat to his head by Yō's side before snapping his arm out and snagging Yō's light without looking. His smile didn't fade as Yō wined to watch the stick dissolve in the flames of Masaomi's hand in warning. "Speaking of foolish men."

"I really hate you sometimes…"

"That feeling's mutual."

After striking his back on the floor, Tatara was locked in a cringing position, his hands in front of his face in defence as he waited for the worst. Neirah had been growing irritable lately with the events to begin to twist her fate, but she hadn't turned violent on him. All he could imagine that day as he turned twenty years old was that he had finally earned the maiming she'd promised him all those years.

Taking a moment to consider that he hadn't lost any blood yet, Tatara slowly peeked an eye open to the sight of Neirah straddling his hips with a wavy smile on her lips. It didn't look forced, but it was awkward, almost like she was using it to contain the gentle shriek barely articulating from within her chest as she held out a decorated cloth bag. "H-hah…? Nei-chan?"

Letting the shrill squeal erupt from within her lungs, Neirah lunged forward and threw her arms around his neck, clutching him tightly as her gift bobbed against his shoulders. "Happy Birthday, Tat-chan!"

A dry snort articulated Izumo's disbelief next to his king as he watched the event unfold. "That settles it. If we ever run short on cash, we'll just sell Totsuka to the circus."

Hm. Upon smirking his agreement, Mikoto caught notice of delicate footsteps padding around the mess sprawled on the floor. By the time his gaze had met hers, Anna was standing with her hands folded in her lap around a similar red-cloth bag patterned with a traditional floral print. The way she blinked back at him vacantly was familiar, but the sparkle in her glowing eyes was the part that continued to disturb him. "Do you need something?"

Mikoto recoiled to the impact of her urgency when it thrust her offering out towards him. He could feel the pressure of his subordinates clamouring around the view expectantly, but the tension didn't seem to bother him as he gently received it. "What is it?"

Like Mikoto, Misaki leaned over the bar and examined the package thoughtfully from behind his king. "Mikoto-san, I think you gotta open it to find out." Misaki flinched to the impact of Mikoto's lethal sneer when he turned it over his shoulder to connect with the casual vanguard's proclamation. Luckily, before Mikoto could advance any further, Saruhiko was punishing his companion's stupidity.

Surrendering to Anna's need for gratification, Mikoto slowly tugged on the nylon bow. "Well, I guess-"

"You made chocolates?!"

Izumo winced to the sound of Tatara's delighted cheer as he opened the package from the floor. He considered Neirah's offering, and then Anna's, but the thought only made his expression darken. "You're kidding, right?" he growled. "Out of all that stuff you exploded all over my kitchen, that's all you two came up with?"

Mikoto still hadn't shooed away his audience as he laid out Anna's confectionary picnic on the bar for all of them to see. Of course, it was the thought that counted. Every chocolate was candy-coated or dyed a vibrant shade of red, but they were made by the hands of a nine-year-old. The drizzle was wonky and uneven, but the heaped squares oozing in places where the chocolate escaped the mould were made with love.

"Are you sure these are edible?"

Just as Tatara made it to his feet from beneath Neirah, he almost fell again. "King!"

Despite Tatara's concern, Mikoto didn't retract his statement. Instead, he tipped his expectant gaze towards where Anna batted her lashes over her bright garnet irises. With a gentle huff, he reached towards one of the reddest chocolates, eyeing it cynically before finally popping it in his mouth. It was chewy, and something crunched. He wasn't sure if it was some kind of nut or candy, but it wasn't terrible.

Pausing his munching, Mikoto glanced over his shoulder towards the eager audience awaiting his verdict. "It's not bad." Anna's face continued to glow with pride, flushing with humility as her lips parted to emit her soft breath.

"You like them?" she cooed.

Mikoto answered her by quietly popping another one behind his teeth, growling at Rikio when he got too close. He could tell that the effort warmed the Strain's heart, and when he turned back to face her, he offered her a faint smile. "Yeah."

Her lips parted further with the heady gasp to escape, and soon, she rushed to his side and buried her face in his thigh. "Happy Valentine's Day, Mikoto."

"Nei-chan, these look amazing!" Tatara proclaimed in bewilderment. "I never knew you had a knack for this sort of thing. You'll have to teach me sometime!"

"I can cook," she defended with a sheepish pout. "But Tat-chan is always cooking for us, so I don't get to often." She pointed towards the carefully arranged and decorated offerings with a fond smile. "These ones here are matcha flavoured, and if you don't like them, our friendship will be hereby dissolved."

"H-harsh!" he cackled fondly.

"O-oh, man… those look so good…" Rikio groaned from where he stood with the rest of the gawking members of their pride, yearning for the same attention. "I guess Mikoto-san and Totsuka-san really were special after all."

Misaki threw his head over his shoulder with a bashful snort. "B-baka, obviously. Who else did you think they were makin' 'em for?"

"Oi! You thought about it too for a sec!"

The ginger vanguard snapped his arms down by his side in outrage. "D-did not!" he argued. "You're just so damn fat that all you can think about is stuffing your face!"

"That's not true!"

"Is so!"

"Gentlemen?"

Eh? Misaki turned in unison with Rikio, the pair of boys meeting the sight of Neirah's fond blush as she presented their remaining company with a heaping tray of what she was about to deem extra. "W-whoa! What's all that for?!"

"Well, I had to make the perfect chocolates for Tat-chan's birthday, so there was a lot of trial and error."

Rikio's face knotted up like he wanted to weep, and he quickly covered his eyes with his hand to retain his joyful tears. "Nē-chan… has stolen my heart." He immediately recoiled as Misaki lashed out at him for the umpteenth time.

"Dumbass! You can't just like a girl over chocolates!"

"And you can't keep hitting people when you're embarrassed!"

"W-who says I'm embarrassed!?"

Yō cocked a brow towards the sight from where he'd draped his arm around the unimpressed woman carrying the tray into their midst. "Mmm, but seriously, have you tried these? You like strawberry, right, Yata?" He didn't falter as Misaki turned his violent scowl towards the man. "Who knew our hunter was beautiful, deadly, and a talented cook?"

"Chitose-kun," she honied in a soft coo. "I'm about to emphasize the deadly part and imprint this tray with your face."

After awkwardly clearing his throat, Yō slowly retracted his arm from around her shoulder like it was mistakenly put there. "I think I'm getting some mixed singles here," he muttered nervously.

"It's a love-hate situation."

Once Neirah made sure that all her boys had picked through her selection, she stepped away from where they'd begun to grow rowdy and approached where Saruhiko lingered by himself at a table nearby. She kept her gaze locked on his attempted denial, and after carefully observing him long enough, she caught the cursory scan of his peripherals peeking her way. The dismaying click of his tongue noted that he realized she'd noticed his attention.

"Look, if you're gonna bring that thing over here-" Saruhiko startled when Neirah set down a small sachet in front of him without bothering to interrupt him or offer him anything from her tray. He wasn't diluted. He knew from the quality of the carefully crafted offerings that they weren't merely trial runs. And neither were the pieces considerately stored in the bag she'd left behind for him.

Before rejoining her friends, Neirah let a soft smile find her face, and she stopped just a few steps away from his table. She didn't return her gaze to his presence as she spoke to keep her address thoughtfully inconspicuous. "I know you're fussy," she murmured under the uproar causing the bar to quake. "But you have a sweet tooth, sometimes."

He hated the way she said it like she was implying something else. What he really wanted to do was pick the bag up and throw it at her, but it seemed inappropriate given his namesake. Instead, he clapped his hand over her subtle reflection, growing even more frustrated when he realized that it was perfectly concealable beneath the size of his palm. He ground his teeth bitterly, slowly dragging the gift off the top of the table before tucking it out of sight, and what he hated most was the feeling of a soft blush colouring his pale cheeks.

Tsk.

"Well, Yata-chan? Does that answer your question?" Izumo dropped his hand on top of Misaki's head with a devious snigger as their party shared the girls' unique offerings that Valentine's Day.

Neirah popped a matcha ball between her teeth and resisted the need to moan her indulgence. "What question is that?"

Even as Misaki fell forward against the bar he'd been sitting on to deny Izumo from proceeding, the lighthearted bartender couldn't help but instigate. "The boys were out here trying to figure out who'd captured the hearts of our girls."

"W-were not!" Misaki barked intolerantly. "H-he's totally lying, Tsukiyo! Don't listen to him!"

"Actually," Tatara purred in delight. "I still haven't quite figured out who you were crushing on when you first joined us, Nei-chan."

Neirah's pigment deepened beneath her inked cheeks as she stuffed a couple more chocolates behind her lips to muffle her retort. "I haven't the slightest what you're talking about."

"I was pretty sure it was Kamamoto-kun, but-"

"Tat-chan, I'm not in the mood."

"I'm not in the mood," Izumo reinforced sternly.

"But it's Valentine's Day." There was almost a sad song in Tatara's whinging tone as he urged them to allow him the pleasure. "Shouldn't we be talking about things like love?"

"Love is a strong word…" Neirah grumbled.

"Too strong," Izumo snapped back irritably. "End of conversation."

"Don't make me say it." When Anna tilted her head back in Mikoto's lap to watch him munch on his chocolates, he met her curiosity boldly. "I bet you figured it out, too, huh?" Anna met his insinuation with a faint nod.

Soft brown eyes shone like stars with Tatara's keen interest as he shimmied closer to his king. "King! You really know who it was all this time?!"

Mikoto shrugged indifferently. A king's intuition could be a scary thing.

Misaki watched Mikoto expectantly, half delighted and half mortified to consider his implication. "W-wait… Tsukiyo r-really had a c-c-crush on someone… in HOMRA?" He lowered his gaze thoughtfully to theorize which of their long-standing members had been around when Neirah had first joined. "S-seriously…?"

As soon as Neirah dropped her milk from her lips, she began to hack desperately for air. "Crush is a strong word…"

"TOO strong," Izumo ordered. "We're not starting this again." When Mikoto parted his lips to pop another chocolate into his mouth, Izumo took the inopportune action as a sign of his interference. "Mikoto, I said no."

"I'd already forgotten..."

"Besides!" From where Neirah raised her voice, she picked up a silver plate heaped in cold glasses of milk. She spread her lean fingers beneath the tray and wove lithely around the bar, divvying up offerings to all her friends enjoying their treats. "You're all forgetting something imperative when you revisit Tat-chan's outlandish insinuations."

Tatara couldn't help but smile his guilt as she leaned into his presence judgmentally before passing him his beverage. "It didn't seem that way at the time…" he defended sheepishly.

Misaki immediately wrinkled his nose when Neirah approached him with a tall glass of ice-cold lies, and he guarded his strawberry chocolate like it required protection from the insult. "The hell is that?" he sneered briskly.

Thick lashes beat over her large sapphire eyes a couple of times in consideration of his rejection. "Ah… milk?"

Misaki nearly gagged and shoved it back towards where she'd summoned it. "Uck! Get that shit away from me!"

Neirah looked utterly mortified to consider his rejection. "What kind of a monster can eat chocolate and not wash it down with-?"

"H-HAH! Don't say it!" he roared. He stuck his tongue out not once, but twice as he tried to banish the thought. "What were you sayin' about Totsuka-san and his insinu-somethins?"

"Insinuations?"

"Whatever, yeah, those."

"Neirah, don't you start too," Izumo calmly reprimanded her. "Your love life doesn't start until you're thirty."

"I thought it was forty," Mikoto calmly interjected.

With a playful coo and the rolling of her eyes, Neirah slipped a glass of milk in Saburōta's hands to strategically fill them before stealing his sunglasses. "O-oi! Give those back!" he snapped apprehensively. It was clear that he'd grown uncomfortable with the topic after the drunken escapade to lead to their teasing.

Despite his frantic scramble to unhand the milk and reclaim his identity, she popped the dark discs onto her face with an evil snigger. "Yes, well, when that inevitable day comes, my hand is promised..." There was a sinister song in her tone as she spoke like she was impersonating a supervillain.

Suddenly, Saburōta's face ignited, and he threw his hands up against his head, jostling his cap in the process. "Tssht-! Onē-san, don't-"

She whirled to face them matter-of-factly, her smile bright beneath her stolen shades as she thrust both hands on her hips and her chest out proudly. "That's right! I'm going to be Queen Bee!"

Victimized by his own drunken stupor, Saburōta groaned bleakly to the sound of his friends' spirited laughter on all sides, and his posture slackened with defeat. "But, I thought I was a wolf…"

Izumo cocked a brow wryly from behind the bar, but not all the sugar in the world could sweeten his tone as he confronted the youth. "Are you insinuating that you're her betrothed?"

Saburōta cringed meekly in Izumo's shadow. "Please don't hit me!" Without warning, Saburōta choked on his next breath to the feeling of Neirah powering into his body and seizing him in her protective clutches.

"Onii-chan, stop picking on my Wolf-kun!"

The first thing he wanted to do was laugh because there was no way he could take her seriously with Saburōta's ridiculous sunglasses obscuring on her face. "Your Wolf-kun?"

"We've been over this. I found him, so he's mine."

Saburōta was lifeless in her ensnaring embrace while she paraded him around like a child would tote a teddy bear. "I feel like I don't have a lot of say in this..."

From where Saruhiko sat quietly to one side of the ruckus, he carefully observed the way Izumo swatted Neirah to keep her from sitting on the top of the bar, and he repeated the same gesture to Misaki on the other side. He could tell he put his back into Misaki's reprimand over their hunter, and then they'd had the nerve to claim that they didn't distinguish her.

As he discreetly chewed on one of his peace-offerings, his thoughts were humble, albeit bitter, as he watched them interact. He often felt like he'd become a stranger among his clanmates, but it was something he'd never really cared for in the first place. He probably would have broken the woman's finger if she'd stuck it in his face to dot his nose with frosting in Misaki's place. There were times where it was amusing to watch the naïve ginger agitate around the woman he claimed to be unextraordinary. Those were the times where it was bittersweet in a way that suited his finicky tastes.

Rolling his eyes at the way Neirah stuck her tongue out in protest, Izumo ruffled up her wild mane with a fond smirk. He knew she was avoiding getting too sentimental on purpose, but he could see her true colours from the start. She was a vibrant shade of woman, and he was silently grateful for every day that she continued to burn despite the hardships her trials put her through. She had many talents, so it seemed, and there were days when he wanted to believe that his little sister could do anything that she set her mind to, aside from keeping her backside off his bar, that is.

He softly shook his head upon parting as the sentiment struck him. He was going to miss chastising her while she was gone, but that was the way of things. Life was full of trials, and he would face one right by her side, he was sure.

As he shoved open the door to his kitchen to bring out refills on their beverages, he realized that the real test of their relationship had already begun. The kitchen was a disaster and the first question that flooded his mind like a tidal wave was about how they managed to get chocolate on the ceiling. He twitched.

Trials indeed.

Nearby, Tatara smiled brightly, delighted to be blessed by the attendance of all his friends on his birthday. The truth was, birthdays didn't mean much to him before he joined HOMRA, but the memories they made on those special occasions could never be replaced. He turned his soft eyes towards his hand-crafted chocolate assortment and viewed them with an appreciative sigh. As someone who dabbled in so many varied hobbies, he understood how much time and effort went into learning something new. That's what made Neirah's gesture so thoughtful, but the best gift of all was something a little simpler than exquisitely crafted chocolates.

With a musical hum of curiosity, he turned his bemused expression towards Neriah when he felt her hands on his face. Her painted lips were smiling, which was the greatest gift he could have ever received. He didn't shift as she diligently spread his bangs from his brow beneath her palms before gently tipping his forehead into her soft kiss.

When she backed away from him, her smile broadened to observe the mark she'd left behind, and her cheeks were mildly rosy with a fond sentiment. "Do you feel spoiled yet, Tat-chan?"

After viewing the sight of all his friend's smiling faces individually, Tatara met her enthusiasm with a bright beam of his own as he raised his fingers to the hair that framed his face to give the strands a sheepish tug. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world."