AN: Cheers youz al for 475 hits! =^D

Creating.

Mizuomi frowned after Mikoto, listening to King's footfalls and the sounds his jewelry made, grow distant as he ascended the stairs. "It's like you said. I mean, he was never the most heart on sleeve or expressive, but-"

"But it's like he's used to having a sword hanging over his head, one that could cut down thousands, if he allowed himself to feel much of anything. It's going to be awhile before he shakes off the feeling of those shackles, once a new Red King is born in the waking." Tatara just hoped Mikoto would be able to at all, he had been living in a state of emotional suppression for so many years now, if he recovered it would be a surprise.

Mikoto had never been a social creature or a pack animal, never been in his element in a crowd, was always in fear of hurting those who trusted in and gathered around him. And in the end Tatara himself was killed to get to Mikoto, and it worked. Mikoto had never wished to be King, to be placed on that pedestal. Yet Tatara had wished to be a king's adviser, he just hadn't counted on the cost.

"You know, my adoptive father told me once, before he crossed over. That one day I might find attachment and bonds in life, he also told me I was heartless, and that I might feel regret. He was right." Tatara always maintained an optimistic outlook, so sure that everything would work out. But now he wasn't so sure. It wasn't just his own life that had been cut short, and he had known that the title of Red King was not easy for Mikoto. Then there was the waking to consider, Mikoto said everyone was safe, but for how long. Crater or no, the death of a King always made an impact.

"Well Mikoto ate up, but he left his bourbon?" Mizuomi shrugged off the confusion at this uncharacteristic turn. Sliding the untouched drink over to Tatara instead. "Just as well, seems like you could do with a second helping. That father of yours is no good by the sounds of it, and I hope you know he was full of it when he said that to you."

Tatara lifted the drink in thanks, putting on his usual smile, before sipping from the brim.
_

Leaving the toilet room, with the pregnancy test he had picked up at the convenience store, in a little plastic bag. Mikoto closed the door to his bedroom behind himself.

Dropping into his wing-back chair, he rested the palm of his hand against his middle. Turning the test over in his other hand, he at last allowed himself to view the result.

'Positive'. He slumped further down in his chair. Anxiety threaded through with relief, washing over him. He may have died, but apparently he was still pregnant. "Eight weeks" He read off the test. He would probably start showing soon, if he chose to carry to term. A decision that in waking life destiny had taken from him.

Munakata came to his mind unbidden. They used to meet up at the hotel room for angry sex, they'd go a few rounds, then return to their people by morning. But in between, they would talk over room service and one of Munakata's historical TV dramas. And on occasion they'd run into each other by chance, around the city. Mikoto couldn't remember the setting. A street corner, a bar, sauna, or the hotel, it didn't matter. At some stage they'd discussed Anna.

Munakata was of course displeased to learn Mikoto hadn't legally adopted Anna, simply taken her in, despite that Fushimi was capable of hacking legal records.

Mikoto returned that Munakata should become a parent first, then criticize. He'd expected Munakata to have another dozen retorts ready to fire off, purposefully left his argument wide open for it. Instead the other man had gone very quiet and thoughtful. Mikoto found it a little unsettling, but refrained from commenting.

Munakata at last smiled a smile on the precipice of a laugh. 'One year, at his daughter's birthday celebration, my brother told me I should have children of my own. But even that wayward one of yours, who came into my care, told me he would pity any child I raised.'

Mikoto listened not interrupting, then returned without any seriousness. 'If Fushimi said as much, it must be true.'

Mikoto watched him for a time, but it seemed Munakata had no more to add. And Mikoto thought that, for all his brains, Fushimi was known to be wrong on occasion. In fact, that kid himself was evidence to the contrary.

Mikoto let his eyes slip open once more. Munakata wanted children, that much had become abundantly clear over the years Munakata and he shared together. The way he talked of his clan, how he doted on his niece and nephew, it was plain to see.

By contrast Mikoto himself, until he accepted Anna as his own, was repelled by the thought of being a parent, responsible for a young life. Even so, he always resented his supposed infertility, thinking it a another choice he never got to make, another aspect of his life dictated for him.

That was until a few months earlier, when he looked up some symptoms he was experiencing, and learned that they could well be signs of embryo implantation. He also discovered doctors routinely lied to their intersex patients about their reproductive potential, and that to begin with, a leading cause of infertility in intersex people was non-consensual sterilization at a young age.

At the time he had told himself it was just an unusually light period, or that he'd rather be knocked up than bleeding out his muff as a result of illness or injury. But he had surprised himself when, upon taking a pregnancy test, he found himself genuinely happy to see a positive result.

He was involved in the formation of a new life, the thought took his breath away. And he had laughed aloud, thinking this probably wasn't what Munakata had in mind when he touted the virtues of creating rather than destroying.

Maybe Munakata had a point after all, but he never got the chance to examine that thought further. The new Colorless King had made himself known, just hours later.

Pushing those memories from his head, he instead focused on what he needed to do now. He was going to have to tell Tatara and Mizuomi, they could help him refrain from drinking and cigarettes, in case he forgot. Yes, he wanted to carry to term he decided.

But first, he needed to sleep, he'd been up to many hours even for a King. Aside from that, he could still feel Anna's anguish, and the echo of Munakata's sword. could see the pain on Munakata's face, sense the tension in his shoulders, Munakata hadn't even drawn breath in those last moments between them. Mikoto had never seen him like that, he'd remember it for as long as he continued to live in one form or another.

"To think, I'd only realize just how you truly feel, at a time like that." He murmured as if to talk over the uncomfortable way his heartbeat quickened, without regard to the usual palpitations. "How I feel too." Eyelids drifting closed, the sleep of the exhausted overcame him.
_

When morning arrived. Tatara showered, brushed his teeth, pulled his winter coat over his regular clothes. Collected his camera, and set out for bar homra, where he still served.

He was giddy from yesterday. It felt like he imagined it, but Mikoto truly crossed over to the dream. And though part of him ached at that, he was also glad to see his friend, and the middle brother of their trio once more. Izumo the eldest brother, in comparison, was too responsible and careful to die young. Given his health held up under the chain smoking, his one vice. No, they wouldn't see head or tail of him for a long time yet.

Waving at familiar faces, and stopping by a convenience store for some pocket warmers. Tatara arrived at his destination, approaching midday. At the same time Mikoto, still damp from the shower, bleary eyed and frowning. Made it down stares, and on to one of the seats at the bar.

"Morning!" Tatara and the front bell both announced.

Mikoto grunted a reply.

"Mizuomi not in?"

Mikoto read out the note on the bar. "'Off to an art showing with the lady friend, might be back tonight.' Signed, Mizuomi."

"I see. In that case, what would you like for breakfast?" Tatara wanted to know. Stepping around the bar he got a frying pan out, and stood dramatically posed in front of the under counter fridge, waiting for a response.

Mikoto pulled a sour face and looked away.

"What's the matter, not hungry? It's real food, not ghost food or anything."

At last Mikoto plucked up his PDA from the bar, and rattled off a list. "Yogurt, mango, oats, mixed berries, dried fruit and water.

"In one bowl or-" Tatara joked.

Mikoto frowned further if possible, and it was always possible with Mikoto. Putting his PDA down, to push across the bar, in Tatara's direction.

Setting the frying pan to the side. Tatara picked up the PDA, scrolling back up through the article to the headline. "'Best foods to eat during- -pregnancy'?" Confused, he looked to Mikoto over the device.

Mikoto, if he held any less control over his powers, would have been burning two holes in Izumo's precious bar with his eyes. At the same time, notable for its inconsistency with his usual body language, his hand was held over his middle, fingers shifting in a caressing motion.

All at once Tatara realized what Mikoto was trying to say. "You're not- I mean- just-. Are you pregnant?" His voice almost cracked for the first time since puberty.

"Yeah." Was Mikoto's wholly understated reply.

"How!?" Tatara squawked.

"The old fucking fashioned way." The other man growled out.

Tatara clapped a hand over his mouth, when a slightly unsteady laugh threatened to bubble up. "What I mean is, you were able to become pregnant without fertility treatment?"

"I looked it up. Turns out some doctors are bastards right alongside the jacks."

"Oh." The sources they'd found, and doctors they'd talked with, all implied that intersex people were automatically infertile. Unless they sought expensive medical therapy, surgery and treatments, if those were even an option. But Mikoto's current situation contradicted the conventional wisdom. "You're changing your diet, does that mean you're wanting to carry to term?" He kept the incredulity from his voice, but some giddy energy at the prospect did slip through.

Mikoto grunted affirmatively.

Tatara felt a smile take over his face. "I'm going to be an uncle twice over!"

"I've been drinking and smoking. Don't get your hopes up, I might miscarry." He tossed Tatara a carton of Blue Sparks, not his usual brand. "Make sure I don't forget."

Catching the carton out of the air. Tatara assured. "It'll be fine, baby will make it. That's what I think. So, how far along are you, did you just find out, or?" Did Mikoto know before his death that he was carrying? The idea was too awful to consider.

"Eight weeks, I found out December 7th. When I went to get smokes, I got a test instead."