Hello! I'm so sorry it's been almost a year, please accept this 6k word chapter as an apology. As always, thank you so much for your support! I hope you enjoy this chapter - we finally get a glimpse at what's been happening in Shizume City during Yata's absence!
Disclaimer: As you have no doubt guessed, I don't own K project or PJO. I can't draw that well, and my writing is not yet at the best-selling novel level. Sigh.
Vanguard of Ares
Part 3: Searching for the Vanguard
-day one-
Kusanagi Izumo, second-in-command of HOMRA, knew his day was going to be migraine-inducing from the moment he woke up to a message from the Red Clan's Vanguard blinking on his phone screen:
Hey, I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I have some family things to take care of. I'll be out of town for a while. Should be back soon. Keep the Blues out of our territory!
-Yata
P.S. Sorry, Mikoto-san, but this was really sudden, so I didn't have time to ask for permission.
It was disturbingly vague and rushed, which was completely unlike Yata.
Oh, dear, Kusanagi thought as he stared blearily down at the screen. The Clan won't be happy about this. I need a drink. And a smoke.
Sure enough, Kusanagi had just opened the bar for the early morning rush and was wiping down his lovely mahogany counter when Kamamoto burst through the door, followed closely by Bandou and Chitose. Within the span of five minutes, every HOMRA member had flooded into the bar, taking up as much space as possible and muttering uneasily.
Totsuka and Anna appeared as well – the two having gone out earlier to enjoy the brisk morning chill and pick up lunch. Totsuka was carrying a plastic bag and cut through the crowd of restless Clansmen with ease. He reached the bar and gently set down the bag before giving Kusanagi a concerned look.
Kusanagi could only shrug in reply to the unasked question, and Totsuka frowned before turning to help Anna clamber up onto a stool.
Kamamoto finally broke the uneasy quiet, as Kusanagi had known he would.
"Kusanagi-san," the rotund man began, eyebrows furrowed over his dark sunglasses, "Where's Yata? What's with the weird message he left?"
Kusanagi sighed and absently reached for a shot glass to polish. The glass was already sparkling, but Kusanagi nonetheless scrubbed at it with a white cloth, his hands restless as he replied, "I don't know where Yata is, Kamamoto. I only know as much as the rest of you – Yata didn't leave any more information besides the note he sent to the Clan's network."
He knew immediately it had been the wrong thing to say, because the younger members of the Clan puffed up even more, incredulous indignation gathering like storm clouds on their brows.
"He didn't tell anyone where he was going?" Kamamoto exclaimed. "But what if he's in trouble?"
"I'm sure Yata is fine," Totsuka smoothly intervened, his soothing voice washing over them and dissipating some of the tension. The Clansmen relaxed a little. "Wherever he is, he can take care of himself. Besides, he said he'd be back soon. All we can do is have faith in him and wait."
"I don't like it," Bandou grumbled. He would have said more, but a familiar, heavy tread sounded on the stairs leading up to the living area above the bar, and the entire Clan turned to see Suoh Mikoto yawning in the doorway.
The Red King moved with all the grace and carefully concealed strength of a particularly lazy panther. He nodded to them all as he made his way across the room to his usual couch. The Clan managed to wait until he dropped down on the leather and glanced at them all with his steady, molten gaze – then they burst out in a flurry of noise.
Kusanagi managed to calm them after a few moments, valiantly ignoring his exponentially increased longing for a cigarette. After HOMRA was miraculously quiet again, Totsuka asked what was on all their minds.
"King," he said, "Have you heard from Yata at all?"
"No," Mikoto replied, blinking once, long and slow.
The Clansmen started to clamor again, but Kusanagi cut them off with a stern, "Hey. Yata is eighteen. He's more than old enough to make his own decisions. Sure, this is out of character for him, but he would let us know if he needed help."
Totsuka nodded, cutting off the Clan's unhappy murmurings with a bright smile. "Kusanagi-san is right. Let's take it easy. I'm sure Yata will be back as soon as he can. When he returns, we can ask him questions, and he can answer if he wants to. For now, let's just trust him to stay safe."
The Clan looked slightly mollified by Totsuka's reassurance, and a slight, lazy nod from Mikoto sealed the deal.
"Okay," Kamamoto nodded determinedly, "Totsuka-san and Kusanagi-san are right. Besides, Yata-san would kick our butts if he thought we were looking down on him. Let's hit the streets and make sure those Blues are staying out of our territory!"
A boisterous cheer erupted from the HOMRA ranks, and the younger Clansmen filed out the door until only Kusanagi, Totsuka, Anna, and Mikoto remained.
Kusanagi finally allowed himself a smoke break as Totsuka pulled out his latest hobby – that silly video camera – and proceeded to coo with Anna over whatever he had already captured on film.
Nodding to his King, Kusanagi stepped outside and lit up. He leaned against the brick wall of his beloved bar and contemplated the blue of the sky. His eyes trailed the whorls of cigarette smoke up and up until they disappeared into the atmosphere, and Kusanagi allowed himself a small sigh of contentment.
When he finally snuffed out his cigarette and flicked the butt into the trash, Kusanagi returned to the bar just as his first patron of the day arrived. The blond man smiled as he took his customer's order, and refused to acknowledge the fact there was still a nagging uneasiness in the back of his mind.
This isn't like you, Yata, he thought. What's going on?
-day two-
Kusanagi was still anxious when forty-eight hours passed without a word from the Red Clan's Vanguard. He tried to distract himself by focusing on scrubbing every bit of dirt from a particularly stubborn champagne flute, but his persistence at trying to ignore the elephant in the room was proving unsuccessful.
He was absurdly grateful when the bell chimed to announce the entrance of a new customer. His grin faltered as he looked up, however, and met a pair of beautiful pale blue eyes.
"Seri-chan," he greeted, taking in the Blue Clan's right-hand woman, dressed in her usual crisp, immaculate uniform. "I take it this isn't a social visit. Would you like a drink anyway?"
Awashima Seri shook her head, her eyes apologetic, "I can't, Kusanagi-san. I'm on duty."
The blond bartender sighed and leaned forward on his elbows, giving his counterpart a charming smile, "That's too bad. What can I help you with, Seri-chan?"
"I need to speak with Yatagarasu in order to get his official statement for the Mole incident," she replied, and Kusanagi's smile vanished.
"Ah," he said, careful to keep his voice neutral. "Unfortunately, that won't be possible. Yata's out of town right now, you see."
"He is?" Awashima asked, startled. "Do you know when he'll be back?"
Kusanagi's lips thinned and the truth was bitter on his tongue, "No. Sorry, Seri-chan. I'll let him know you'd like to speak with him when he returns."
"Thank you," she said, still blinking in slight shock. Then she shook her head and gave him a small smile.
"I have to get back to work," she said, "But I'll try to come by for a drink later tonight."
"You're always welcome here, Seri-chan," Kusanagi returned her smile, and waved as she exited HOMRA headquarters in a swirl of blue uniform.
The yawning pit of unease in his gut continued to fester and grow.
-day three-
The next day, the Clan gathered at the bar for an impromptu meeting. Although most members maintained the excuse they were there only because they had nothing better to do, it was quietly acknowledged the real reason the Red Clan had seen fit to gather and mope at their headquarters was because they longed for a sense of solidarity. (And no one wanted to give vocal validation of the unspoken consensus that Yata's absence was sorely missed.)
Even when the Clansmen's collective sadness drove the patrons from his bar for the day, Kusanagi didn't have the heart to banish them to the outdoors. The blond man gritted his teeth as he wiped down the bar, frustrated he didn't know what to say, what to do. Clan morale was Totsuka's department.
Yata had also been unofficially in charge of morale – he offered the foil to Totsuka's gentle prodding; his naturally loud brashness was perfect for getting Clansmen psyched up, for boosting their confidence before and during battle.
The slightly glum silence was suddenly disturbed by Mikoto bolting upright from his sprawled position on the couch.
The unexpected movement drew the gathered Clansmen's eyes like moths to a flame, and all noise cut out abruptly.
The Red King didn't appear to notice their intense stares, his molten eyes focused on something far away in the distance, on something Kusanagi suspected only he could see.
"King?" Totsuka asked. "What is it?"
Mikoto continued to stare into the distance, face unreadable as he murmured: "Yata just activated his Aura."
Totsuka frowned and the gathered Clansmen tensed, "Is he in danger?"
The Red King took a while to respond, but after a few minutes he swung his legs off the side of the couch, bracing his elbows on his knees.
"I don't know," Mikoto admitted. He remained contemplative for a moment, and the Clan caught a glimpse of the powerful creature coiling under his skin, before he leaned back and threw his arms over the back of the couch.
When he spoke again, the Red King's voice was calm and smooth as water-worn stone, "But, Yata can take care of himself."
This was the mantra the Red Clansmen chanted to themselves for the next seven days, tempers fraying with each passing hour there was no word from Yata. The Clansmen picked fights all over the city and were unusually vicious when taking down punks. Totsuka did his best to calm them, but the strange silence from their Vanguard made his words fall on deaf ears.
HOMRA raised hell for a week, and then the Blue King came calling.
-day ten-
The sky was heavy with storm clouds when the Blue King darkened HOMRA's doorway, raindrops splattering on the windowpanes. The tall, slender man smiled serenely as he stepped over the threshold and patiently dried his glasses, his uniform slightly damp but otherwise perfect, not a hair out of place.
Awashima was at his shoulder, and she flashed Kusanagi a quick look of concern before straightening her shoulders and marching after her King, who had made his way unerringly through the dim bar to where Mikoto was reclining on the couch.
As always, the atmosphere grew heavy with the two Kings in the same room. Kusanagi felt as though the storm clouds outside had invited themselves in, the lightning flickering in their depths transforming into tension that crackled through the air when golden eyes met violet.
"Suoh Mikoto," Munakata Reisi said cordially.
"Munakata," Mikoto responded with tiny nod of acknowledgement, more of his chin dropping a few centimeters to his chest than anything, but the Blue King didn't seem to mind, and went straight to business.
"You have been tense for more than a week now, Suoh," Munakata scolded quietly. "Your Aura is starting to spill over, which is very unlike you. What's going on?"
"Never you mind, Munakata," the Red King responded, a lazy smirk stretching across his lips.
The Blue King sighed, "Believe me, I would much rather be doing other things right now. Unlike you, I have mountains of paperwork to wrangle. However," Munakata's violet eyes flashed, "your Weissman level is rising, and neutralizing the danger you pose to civilians takes precedence. So I'll ask again, Suoh: What is going on?"
Mikoto's golden gaze sharpened as he drawled, "What if I told you it wasn't the Blue Clan's business, Munakata?"
"If you were to say that, then I'd inform you that as leader of Scepter 4, the safety of every person in Shizume City is my business," Munakata retorted, and all eavesdropping members of HOMRA frowned at his tone. "You threaten their safety with your rising Weissman levels, and I need to know why. Let me do my job."
"Fair enough," Mikoto conceded.
"My Vanguard has been out of town for several days," the Red King said, "and for the past week, his Aura has been feeling strangely muffled. I can't pinpoint where he is. Even Anna has tried, but her marbles just keep spinning on their axes."
"I did not think Yata Misaki was the type to be out of the Red Clan's territory for so long," Munakata remarked, eyebrows raised in surprise. "This is indeed cause for concern. Have you tried to contact him?"
"Of course," Totsuka interjected. "We've tried calling him every day, but he won't answer – both his phone and watch go straight to voicemail."
"I see," the Blue King looked thoughtful. "Suoh, my professional opinion is that you should give Yata-kun two more days to respond. If he does not make contact by then, I urge you to reach out to other resources."
The Red Clan burst into an instant uproar at his suggestion, with the general consensus being, "We don't need advice from no stinkin' Blues!"
The Red King ignored his Clan's blustering, and the two Kings remained oases of quiet in the tumult, seeming to have a silent conversation with their eyes alone.
Finally Mikoto rumbled, "Enough," and HOMRA grudgingly settled down. The crimson-haired man regarded his counterpart stoically from his place on the sofa, and the Blue King looked back without blinking.
"We'll give Yata forty-eight hours," Mikoto said. "Then we'll get serious."
"Very well," Munakata nodded, turning on his heel to leave. "Work on containing your Aura, Suoh. Keep me posted. And if there's anything I can do—"
The Blue King was cut off as most of the Red Clansmen started talking again, insisting it was HOMRA business. Munakata remained unfazed by the interruption, and continued to the door. He stopped on the threshold and glanced back at the Red King.
"Until next time, Suoh," he bid, and Mikoto inclined his head.
The atmosphere in the bar lightened considerably without the pressure of two Swords of Damocles hovering overhead, and Kusanagi and Totsuka managed to bring the crowd of rowdy Clansmen to a dull roar in short order.
"Two days?" the blonde bartender murmured to Totsuka later that evening as he put chairs up on tables.
"Two days," the brunet repeated, brown eyes dark with concern.
Kusanagi heaved a sigh, and stared out at the rain.
-day twelve-
It had been nearly a fortnight since their Vanguard vanished with barely a word, and the Red Clan was ready to tear apart the city – scratch that, the country – to find him.
They flooded Kusanagi's bar, inundating the space with a cacophony of noise, and allowed light to glint off of too many blades and bats for his patrons' comfort. Within the span of five minutes his customers tossed back their drinks and scurried out the door, taking care to edge around the areas where the Red Clansmen had taken up their raucous vigil.
The blond bartender swore he could feel an ulcer developing from his worry over Yata, and seeing as this was the third time in the past week that his customers had been scared away, it didn't take much for his temper to flare.
"Quiet!" Kusanagi boomed, and was slightly gratified when the younger Clansmen shut their mouths immediately, expressions suitably cowed.
"Look," he sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I know we're all worried about Yata, but I think it's time we tried something different to find him."
"What do you suggest, Kusanagi-san?" Chitose asked.
"You're not going to like it," Kusanagi muttered to himself, before raising his voice so his words carried clearly through the room. "I think we need to call in a favor with the Blue Clan. Wait," he gave his indignant fellow Clansmen a stern look through his sunglasses, "hear me out. It's a fact we don't have the same technological resources as they do. The truth is they have a better chance of finding Yata than we do.
"We've waited long enough for Yata to contact us on his own," the blond man continued, "I think at this point we can all agree something is wrong. Therefore, I think it's best we don't waste any time. The bottom line is we need to find our Vanguard as fast as possible, and the Blue Clan has the best chance of doing that."
His words took the wind out of the HOMRA members' sails, and it sent a pang through his heart to see them look so defeated.
"Alright," Kamamoto muttered after a while. He made eye contact with each Clansman, the de-facto fourth-in-command in Yata's absence. The rotund man looked as though the words pained him to say, but he managed to grind out, "Let's go see the Blue Clan, then. For Yata."
"For Yata," HOMRA repeated, expressions glowing with fierce determination.
"Oh dear," Totsuka said faintly, quiet enough that only Kusanagi could hear him. The bartender looked at the brunet in askance, and Totsuka grimaced, "Fushimi-kun may not react well."
Kusanagi felt as though the air had been sucked out of his lungs. In all the commotion and gut-clenching worry of the past two weeks, he had completely forgotten about their wayward Clansman and his turbulent connection to their Vanguard.
Shit, Kusanagi thought, before grabbing his coat and following the entirety of the Red Clan out the door, heading toward Scepter 4 headquarters.
V . O . A .
Fushimi Saruhiko reacted to the news about as well as could be expected. His face drained of all blood and his eyes went hard and cold behind the glinting frames of his glasses.
Shark eyes, Kusanagi thought absently. He had rarely seen this expression on Fushimi's face – in fact he could count the number of incidents on one hand, and without fail all of them had to do with a certain boisterous Vanguard.
"What," Fushimi drawled in a voice void of all inflection, "did you say?"
Kusanagi grimaced, but Totsuka was the one who was brave enough to break the news once again, "We haven't heard from Yata-kun in a few days, Fushimi-kun, which is why we have come to request assistance from the Blue Clan."
"You haven't heard from Misaki in nearly two weeks, and are only now asking for assistance?" The blue-haired young man ground out, knuckles white around the hilt of his sword.
"We wanted to be sure Yata needed our help. We didn't want to embarrass him by calling in the cavalry when it wasn't necessary," Totsuka said. "Please, Fushimi-kun."
Their former Clansman fixed them all with a furious, frigid stare for several more moments, his eyes lingering on Mikoto and Totsuka, before he released the hilt of his sword and slouched into a deceptively relaxed posture.
"Fine," Fushimi said. "Come with me. I'll take you to see the Captain."
-day thirteen-
A task force was set up and the Blue Clan immediately funneled all their considerable technological resources into investigating Yata's disappearance. Within twenty-four hours, to the intense relief of HOMRA, the Blue Clan had Yata's trail.
They used surveillance cameras from stoplights and ATMs to track him from the area where the Mole incident had taken place to his apartment (and to Totsuka's horror their young Vanguard appeared to be limping). Despite the lackluster quality of the grainy footage, it was easy to see Yata looked exhausted as he dragged himself inside his apartment building.
Considering his apparent level of fatigue, everyone looking on in the cramped Scepter 4 headquarters (it had not been built to contain two Clans at the same time) expected Yata to remain inside at least until dawn. The restless Clansmen frowned when Fuse fast-forwarded the surveillance tape, and Yata was seen exiting his apartment not two hours later, a bag slung over his shoulder.
"Where is Yata-san going?" Kamamoto mumbled as Yata hailed a cab and took off. "He never takes a taxi. He always uses his skateboard."
"That's what's troubling," Blue Clansman Himori Akiyama murmured, switching to a different camera feed. The two Clans watched in silence as Yata's taxi weaved its way through Shizume City traffic until it stopped at a bus station and Yata stepped out, tossing the driver a wad of yen. "According to the bus station's ticket records, Yata Misaki booked a ticket to Tokyo International Airport. Airport records indicate he proceeded to buy a one-way ticket to Washington D.C. This happened thirteen days ago, and it is the farthest we have been able to trace him."
"America?" Chitose blurted out, incredulous. "What the hell would our Vanguard be doing there?"
The two Clans devolved into a dozen side conversations, each speculating about what reason Yata Misaki could have possibly had for going to America.
Fushimi, who had been lurking in the shadows toward the back of the room, went absolutely still with a suddenness that had Totsuka zeroing in on him in concern. The young man may have been a turncoat, but he was still HOMRA as far as Totsuka was concerned, and the brunet worried about him the same as any other member of the Red Clan.
Something cold dropped into Totsuka's stomach when he realized Fushimi had gone pale as a sheet, the glow of the various screens around the room leeching the color from his skin until only white remained.
"Fushimi-kun," the rare sternness from HOMRA's third-in-command snagged everyone's attention, and the young man in question flinched, "What's wrong?"
For a long moment Fushimi didn't reply, simply stared at Totsuka with an expression of mounting horror growing in his eyes, threatening to shatter his mask of aloofness. Totsuka reached out, alarmed by the fear and hollowness he glimpsed Fushimi trying desperately to hide—
The blue-haired young man jerked into motion and stepped forward to a computer terminal before Totsuka could make contact, but the brunet didn't allow Fushimi's avoidance to deter him, and crowded close as the Blue Clansman started to type furiously. In moments, Fushimi brought up news footage of a terrible storm system that had torn across the continental United States a week previous.
The news clip was in English, and Totsuka's brow furrowed in confusion. He only caught about every third word of whatever the news anchors were saying, but most of his attention was on Fushimi, who was staring at the storm clouds with such intensity Totsuka was almost surprised the computer screen didn't catch fire.
Then, from her position tucked against Mikoto on one of the few chairs available in the room, little Anna gasped. Her wide red eyes also appeared to be fixated on the swirling clouds, and she looked absolutely terrified.
Both Clans shifted anxiously, disturbed by their Clan members' odd reactions.
The blue-haired young man ignored the muttering that swelled to a low buzz throughout the room and continued glaring at the storm clouds.
"That idiot," he growled, and Totsuka realized with a jolt of surprise that he had never seen Fushimi quite so angry. His was a cold fury, but the brunet had never witnessed this level of intensity, not even in those final heart-wrenching days before Fushimi had mutilated himself and turned his back on HOMRA.
"What's going on?" Awashima demanded. "Fushimi, report!"
Predictably, Fushimi ignored his superior's demands and limped to his locker, where he proceeded to rummage around. After a minute of rifling through his belongings, Fushimi pulled out a large, oddly-shaped coin that glinted gold in the blue glow cast by the computer screens.
Satisfied, Fushimi Saruhiko turned to consider the room at large. His blue eyes lingered for a moment on the albino child shivering against her King, and, in an uncharacteristic display of compassion, he said, "Don't worry, Anna. I'll explain later."
Disregarding both Clans' stunned looks at the fact he had tried to comfort Kushina Anna, Fushimi announced, "I need to create a rainbow."
He made the absurd declaration with a completely straight face, and it was the tension building in his shoulders more than anything that snapped Totsuka out of his shocked stupor.
"Alright, Fushimi-kun," the third-in-command of HOMRA said, and moved to help.
V . O . A .
It didn't take long for the gathered Clansmen to spill out into an adjoining courtyard of the Scepter 4 headquarters, where Himori had remembered there was a functioning fountain.
Bemused, the Red and Blue Clansmen took up vigil on opposite sides of the courtyard, staring as Fushimi and Totsuka stepped up to the innocuously bubbling fountain.
"I need you to heat the water," Fushimi told his once fellow-Clansman, "We need to create a rainbow out of mist."
Totsuka nodded and activated his Aura: an instant later, magenta butterflies were swirling through the air, fluttering delicately to the fountain and brushing up against the streams of water, sending up billows of steam that faded into mist.
Once the brunet man had generated a relatively stable supply of mist, Fushimi raised his voice and intoned, "O Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering."
As soon as he finished speaking, Fushimi hefted the strange coin he was holding and threw it into the mist.
Certain that the blue-haired young man had finally lost his mind, the Clansmen listened attentively for the sound of the coin hitting the cobblestone on the other side of the fountain, but the expected clatter never came.
Somehow, they realized, impossibly, the gold coin had disappeared into thin air.
The Clansmen didn't have long to ponder this mystery, however, as an instant later the mist Totsuka had created gained a sentience of its own, wafting up and condensing into a vaguely humanoid shape that transformed into the visage of a beautiful woman with dark hair, olive skin, and warm brown eyes.
(At opposite ends of the courtyard, Suoh Mikoto and Munakata Reisi narrowed their eyes simultaneously.)
"I don't usually heed mortals," the beautiful woman said in a voice that echoed strangely, as though she were speaking from the other side of a canyon, her words reverberating off its nonexistent stone walls. "But your Sight is unclouded, Fushimi Saruhiko, and you are under my protection, so I will allow this. Who do you wish to contact?"
"Yata Misaki," Fushimi replied, appearing completely unfazed by the woman's inexplicable appearance. (Was she a Strain of some kind? the Clansmen wondered. How does she know Fushimi?)
The dark-haired woman frowned apologetically, "I'm sorry, but I can't fulfill your request. Yata Misaki is currently unavailable."
Fushimi's fists clenched, "What do you mean?"
"He's alive and well," the woman assured him. "But with the Second Titan War the wards at Camp Half-Blood have been strengthened, and I cannot reach him there."
The woman's image started to fade.
"Wait!" Fushimi shouted, desperate, but despite his pleas, the mist returned to normal water in a matter of seconds. There was a moment of silence as the onlookers all stared at the newly-formed puddle beside the fountain, and then both the Red and Blue Clansmen recovered enough from their shock to explode into questions. Their respective Kings simply watched quietly as their subordinates talked over each other, demanding to know what was going on.
"It's Misaki's story to tell," the third-in-command of Scepter 4 snapped, surly. The young man remained facing the fountain, his expression hidden from all but Totsuka, who could practically see Fushimi clam up as his stared listlessly at the puddle, whose only purpose now was to reflect the robin's egg blue of the sky.
What aren't you telling us, Fushimi-kun? Totsuka wondered. Why do you look as though Yata will never return? The brunet reached out, determined but unsure as to what he could do or say that would banish that heart-wrenching expression of carefully concealed distress from Fushimi's face—
He was stopped by a flash of light as bright as the sun erupting right in front of Fushimi, and Totsuka cried out as he was blinded.
Scrubbing at his eyes, the two Clans' startled oaths resonated in Totsuka's ears as he blinked black spots away from his vision. When he could see clearly again, the brunet gasped in surprise and stumbled back.
Standing in front of Fushimi was yet another gorgeous woman, although this one was much more corporeal than the last: her shadow stretched out on the cobblestone, and Totsuka had no doubt she had somehow teleported herself into the heart of Scepter 4. Despite his alarm, Totsuka couldn't help but stare in awe at the woman, who stood tall and had to be the most beautiful he'd ever seen. One moment she seemed to have long dark hair and Hispanic features; and in the next blonde hair and blue eyes.
Regardless of what she looked like, there was something irresistibly mesmerizing about her: she exuded a kind of energy Totsuka couldn't help but be drawn to.
He was startled out of his daze by Fushimi snarling and reaching for his sword. The young man's hiss was enough to rouse the rest of the Clansmen, and they followed his lead, standing alert and ready for battle.
Her visage settling on a strangely attractive mix between Japanese and Caucasian features, the woman looked unconcerned as the Clans simultaneously moved to surround her, taking up defensive positions around the courtyard.
"So this is the kind of welcome I can expect from my nephew's second family? Why am I not surprised – your brutishness suits him," she waved her hand flippantly and tossed her hair, "Don't bother with the charade. I could destroy you all in an instant."
When she spoke, the woman's voice sounded like tinkling bells, and despite her snide comments, Totsuka found himself relaxing against his will.
I don't like her, Totsuka decided, disturbed by the fog that threatened to cloud his mind whenever he looked at the mysterious woman. And, as though she was aware of his thoughts, the woman's eyes darted to him and she gave him a wide smile, her perfect teeth flashing in the sunlight.
You will, her smile seemed to promise. Whether you want to or not.
Fushimi brandished his sword, glaring as though he wasn't effected at all by the woman's charms, "What are you?"
At Fushimi's query, most of the Clansmen's first thought was that the gorgeous woman must be a Strain, because how else could she be able to change her appearance in the blink of an eye? The beautiful woman tilted her head, a gleeful look in her eye, and replied silkily, "Well, I'm something like Yata Misaki's aunt – or stepmother, depending on how you look at it."
The third-in-command of Scepter 4 narrowed his eyes as the rest of the Clansmen spluttered in shock.
Yata-kun has never mentioned his mother, Totsuka realized with something like horror curdling in his stomach. In all the years we've known him, I've never heard him talk about his past at all.
The brunet man struggled to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat because the realization stung: It seems there's much about our Vanguard that we don't know.
There were a few moments of quiet muttering, before Munakata Reisi surprised them all by stepping forward and bowing elegantly.
"Lady Aphrodite," the Blue King intoned, his face unreadable, "to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"
"You're a shrewd one, aren't you, Munakata Reisi," 'Aphrodite' purred, her hair turning crimson. "I like that in a man."
"Stop stalling," the Red King growled from his position at the opposite end of the courtyard. Although his body language was relaxed, his eyes flashed and betrayed the fact he was done playing games.
Aphrodite looked unconcerned, "So violent, Suoh Mikoto. You remind me of my lover."
She ran an assessing, appreciative gaze over the Red King, before smiling like a cat who had caught a canary, "No wonder Yata looks up to you like a father."
Thoroughly rankled by the woman's condescension, both Clans leaned forward, waiting for a sign from their sovereigns to attack. Aphrodite and Suoh Mikoto stared at each other, before the beautiful woman laughed and said coyly, "I hear you're looking for your Vanguard."
The muscles in the Red King's forearms tightened ever so slightly as he clenched his fists inside his pockets, his golden eyes narrowed suspiciously, "Where is he?"
"Now that would be telling," she chided, looking pleased. "But I can take you to him. Well, actually," her eyes slid to where the third-in-command for the Blue Clan was glaring daggers at her, "it's an invitation for one. What do you say, Saruhiko?"
"I'll go," the young man responded immediately, sheathing his sword. From across the courtyard, the two Kings shared an unreadable glance, before Munakata sighed.
"Very well," the Blue King said. "Fushimi, your mission is to retrieve the Red Clan's Vanguard and return as quickly as possible. Do you accept?"
"Yes," Fushimi replied. Aphrodite's brilliant smile turned sly as she moved to stand toe to toe with the blue-haired young man.
"Have fun," Aphrodite simpered. The beautiful woman reached out and placed her perfectly-manicured hand over Fushimi's heart.
The instant she touched him, Fushimi Saruhiko vanished in a flash of light.
Alarmed and enraged, the Clansmen decided they were done with being jerked around by this so-called 'Lady Aphrodite' and charged forward, raising their fists and swords and summoning their Auras.
The moment they stepped forward, however, Aphrodite rolled her eyes and waved a hand; a wave of pure energy erupted from her, and all but the two Kings were knocked off their feet from the force of the attack.
"Calm down," Aphrodite scoffed. "Saruhiko will be fine. Probably."
Smirking down at the winded Clansmen, Aphrodite tossed her hair and said, "Well, it's been fun, but I really must be going now. There's a certain forbidden romance that requires my attention – the more drama the better, you know. That's my motto."
She winked at the Red and Blue Kings, and blew them all a kiss.
"Close your eyes," she said, "If you don't want to go blind."
"Listen to her!" Munakata shouted, and everyone instinctively flinched back as the sun itself seemed to flicker before them, searing light burning through their eyelids.
It was over in an instant; when the assembled Clansmen opened their eyes all that remained in the center of the courtyard was a thoroughly confused Totsuka Tatara, and an innocuously bubbling fountain.
Fuse cleared his throat and turned to his King, "Respectfully, sir, what was that all about?"
Munakata sighed and closed his eyes.
"Sometimes it is best not to know, Fuse-kun," he murmured tiredly. He opened his eyes again and adjusted his glasses, returning to his usual unruffled state, "Back to work, everyone. Fushimi-kun will return in due time."
The Blue Clansmen appeared unconvinced, and traded unhappy looks, but nonetheless sheathed their swords and trudged back inside Scepter 4 headquarters.
Mikoto glanced at Kusanagi, who nodded and herded the Red Clan out the door. When only the two Kings remained on the cobblestone, Mikoto turned to look back at Munakata.
The Blue King said, "I don't like the threat of the West's war coming to Shizume City. Stay in touch, Suoh, for all our sakes."
Mikoto gave a languid nod, "Same to you, Munakata."
The Kings considered each other for a moment more, before going their separate ways.
Even as the two Clans reluctantly returned to their normal routines, they shared an unspoken vow: Wherever you are, Yata-kun, Fushimi-kun, you'd better come back safe. Otherwise we're coming for you. And nothing will get in our way.
Well? How was it? I personally found this chapter really hard to write, so I apologize if the characterization was off. ^.^ It's so nice to be writing again, though, so I'll accept stubborn characters.
Next time: Camp Half-Blood is recovering from the Second Titan War, and the demigods might finally unravel some of the mystery surrounding the Vanguard of Ares.
Please leave a note on your way out, even if it's only to answer this question: What's your favorite sport? I personally love basketball. Whenever I even hear the sound of the ball hitting the court or the swish of the net, I want to start playing.
See you next time!
~Home By Another Way