Disclaimer: I do not own K project, time to mess with Mi-sa-ki~ ;}

Coming Undone

Chapter Two: Misaki

Yata, had felt a shift in his personality shortly after Fushimi had betrayed them for the blues. He seemed to have less energy for games, his easygoing personality became a mask, secretly craving any confrontation he could. In the name of Homra, of course.

Misaki threw himself into his work running from any of the feelings he had towards Fushimi, and consequently they fueled him with anger. He managed like this for quite some time, and he could have been content like this, constantly convincing himself everything was okay. However, that was a blessing that Misaki could not hope for. Mikoto Suoh died.

Yata couldn't take the blow. He actively pursued the blues, shut down and fueled by a bitterness of a decision he didn't understand. Why Saruhiko had betrayed HOMRA and left. Misaki still didn't understand, and as much as he thought about the other male, he could never seem to figure out who Saru had become. From the moment in time that Fushimi had betrayed him his friend became a stranger. Since then, all Yatagarasu Misaki felt was the bitter pain of betrayal caused by the man who had been his closest friend.

The bells to Kusinagi's bar announced the arrival of a new guest. The blonde barkeep looked up and greeted the newcomer.

"Hey Yata, how's it going today?" he inquired while drying some bar glasses

The red head looked at him and contemplated his answer for a moment before speaking. "Quiet, but not in a good way." Yata sighed and dropped into a couch, "Y'know like the calm before the storm."

Kusinagi set his glass to rest next to the other glasses and dropped the rag next to the bar sink. Coming around from behind the bar the blonde joined his fellow clan's man on the couch. "Oh, sounds rough." He said with a light hint of humor.

Misaki just clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. "Now was that really necessary?" the red head drawled, sulking just a bit, as his arms folded over his chest. "I just hate waiting. I wish those damned blues would make a move so I can do something! I'm going stir-crazy over here!" his words were like molten lava. They flowed and no one dared to stop them. Well no one except Kusinagi.

"Yata…you know even Anna has moved on. Mikoto would want you to move on." He paused long enough to quickly contemplate his next words and spoke once more. "I know this isn't about Mikoto, no he was just icing on the damned cake."

"What are you getting at?" Growled Yata impatiently.

The blonde barkeep smiled, a look akin to pity mixed with knowing painting his features. "What I'm getting at, Yata, is that you are still hung up on Fushimi. You have been since he left. You aren't eating, you aren't sleeping, you aren't doing fun things someone your age should be doing! Basically, you aren't living!"

"And what exactly is wrong with any of that!" interjected the red head jumping heatedly to his feet, "just because I'm dedicated to my king and my work doesn't mean I am not living! What if it's the lifestyle I want?"

Kusinagi sighed in slight ire, "Misaki— "

"Don't call me that!" he snapped.

Another heavy sigh and then, "Alright, Yata-listen, we—I am concerned because of how much energy this lifestyle is taking out of you. You are always short tempered and irritated. Why can't you just go talk to him-!"

"I don't want to see that traitor! There is nothing I want to talk to him about. He left me and HOMRA! That was his choice and talking to him won't fix anything anyways. So, butt out of my personal affairs Kusinagi." The red head was vibrating with tense energy, wound so tight he was ready to explode.

"I'll butt out when you start listening to reason and start handling yourself in a reasonable manner. You are wasting away to nothing." His voice was hedged with barely controlled anger and rampant concern. The blonde just wanted the best for his clan mate, Yata was like a brother to him and it pained him to see him continue day after day just a hollow shell of the boy he used to know. And he couldn't even see it.

"I can handle myself just fine thank you!" Yata's voice was trembling and he had already moved to the door. "I'll see you later." He said sullenly as he left the bar leaving Kusinagi to his own devices once more.

The blonde sighed and let out a resigned chuckle rubbing the back of his neck wearily. "Yata, I wish you would just listen to me." He sighed once more standing stiffly and walked behind the bar, "I just want to help you." He muttered softly to himself. He stared out the door window Yata had just left through, his eyes glazing over as he sunk into heavy thoughts and returned to wiping his bar glasses.

It was dark in the room where Saru was. He had slept till noon and even after several trips to the restroom he still had yet to get up and eat breakfast. He kept turning The Blue King's words over and over in his head. The man he had grown to respect as a father had just turned his world upside down. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Misaki was supposed to chase after him. Look at only him. Follow only him. He gritted his teeth and all but suffocated himself in his pillow. He chewed anxiously on the pillow case his thoughts whirring a mile a second. All his fears, all his insecurities were tearing at him, picking at his doubts, making him feel like dying rather than trying to find a certain red haired HOMRA punk.

With a sudden movement and a low growl Fushimi threw back his covers and made yet another trip to the rest room. This time though he would not be using it for its intended purpose. He fished through his drug cupboard seeking out his pair of scissors from the back. They still had blood from the last time he did this to himself. He laughed dryly his throat constricting and his stomach flipping.

"Why do I do this to myself?" A soft voice from within cried in his mind. He smiled sardonically, "Because, no one cares." He whispered bitterly to himself. He held his arm out palm up and looked at the scarred flesh that lay before him. Every mark was a vow to get his Misaki back, but every mark was also a vow to punish Misaki for all the pain he had caused him. He casually regarded the blade in his right hand and slowly placed it to his flesh, like a greeting as the cold metal warmed against his skin. And quicker than he could process he dragged it across the marred flesh leaving a red trail in its wake. It hurt so good. He felt a slight smile grace his lips and made another cut and another, until there was no flesh left uncolored on his forearm. He was trembling, panting slightly as he dropped from his high and assessed his situation. Perhaps he had gotten to excited as there were drops of scarlet painting his white tile floor. The blood always evoked a feeling in him that made it so he could finally cry.

Staring forlornly at his arm he felt two stray tears slip down his cheeks and off his chin. "Misa…ki…" He breathed his voice grating like sandpaper. He hid the scissors again and returned to his bed even with all the red on his arm. He could care less. At least that's what he kept telling himself, he could care less. The problem was that where Misaki was involved he cared to much. Reaching the bed, he hesitated, he already could feel the faint throbbing fading. His cure wasn't as effective as it had been, that's why he was littered with scars, and healing cuts. In an attempt to quell his restlessness Fushimi returned to the restroom a few more times. However, no matter how much he mutilated his flesh his state of mind didn't change and his restlessness only increased. Abruptly, the blue soldier growled and darted from his bed, he wiped away what blood hadn't dried, threw on some dark clothes, grabbed his coat and with knives close to hand he plunged into the early winter evening. Saruhiko hoped that he would find some sort of release, because all this pent-up energy was going to make him explode if he couldn't find a way to release it. Hopefully he could run into Misaki. A deranged smile twisted his features and he chuckled to himself. Ah, yes, a fight with Misaki would set all right. Who cared what else happened, when he was fighting Misaki he felt his best, and with where he was from being alone with himself he needed to see Misaki, he needed to break him, or even better have Misaki break him.

Yata verbally bashed Kusinagi in his head. Criticizing him for trying to blame all of his problems on Fushimi. What happened with the traitor had happened and gone into the past. Nothing could change on that front. At least that is what the red head told himself. He had been ignoring the pleasure that fighting his old comrade brought. Sometimes it almost felt like they were on the same team. If Yatagarasu were to be honest with himself he would recognize that he missed his friend, that the weight in his chest was rot from mourning two people, one of which he had yet to realize was not dead.

A moment of intense thought and a slight bump threw the teen from his board and sent him sprawling on the unforgiving concrete. "Fuck!" he cursed as he took a moment to regain his bearings and peel himself from the ground. Even when Fushimi wasn't around he still managed to hurt him.

"Just thinking about the bastard gets me into trouble." Yata thought crossly. As he stood he assessed his surroundings and realized he had gone a bit farther from HOMRA home base than he had intended. In this area of the city there were even less people out and the alley ways were darker and less inviting even for a member of the red clan. Misaki shivered, he felt like he was being watched, but he brushed it off as paranoia. It was all Kusinagi's doing, putting thoughts into his head, "Talk to Fushimi?…heh…yeah right." He scoffed derisively as he placed his board and set to push off towards his usual haunts.

The sound of a clicking tongue made Yatagarasu freeze and he hardly dared to breath thinking he was going nuts. "I'm touched Mi-sa-ki~" there was a pause in which the red head half turned to face the specter from his thoughts. "to know that you do think about me~"

Yata's face hardened and he glared Fushimi. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he snarled from between clenched teeth.

So, there is Yatagarasu's head and their encounter. Thoughts are appreciated. Thank you to all who followed, favorited and reviewed. You are a writer's lifeblood and motivation. So, thank you!

~CGreyson.