K: Midnight: A K Project Fan Fiction

Chapter Four: Tōru Hieda

May 15, 2012

"Mikoto?"

"Hm?"

"Is this a date?"

Mikoto stopped along the sidewalk, curving his rough features to the side. His left eye barely looked at me, a sort of knowingness behind it. "Do you want to go on one?"

I don't know why; never had I fallen quite so frozen, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to answer. I was suddenly so flustered, I dipped down awkwardly, reddening profusely and feeling like an idiot.

"Ah, is that so..." I heard him say.

He kept on walking. Still, I didn't move. Instead, I merely smiled, cupped my hand around my mouth and whispered into Tatara's video camera, "I'm on a date with Mikoto today."

It had been a while since the two of us had found ourselves alone together. With everything happening lately, the upturn of events that brought our foes marauding on our doorstep yet again, I hadn't been allowed the freedom to meander by myself, not whilst Midnight Shadows lurked about the city. Their actions, both elusive and sporadic, spoke of grand designs no doubt were catered just for me, and for this, it wasn't safe for me outside. However, with the Red King, Mikoto Suoh, as my chaperone, I hadn't a thing to worry about. Rather, I'm certain Mikoto would have welcomed the idea of being bait, if only to lure the Shadows out from their respective fissures in Shizume. However, the idea of dangling me on that same line was something less than pleasing to Mikoto. He was willing to do anything and everything in order to bring the Shadows out into the light — except put me in danger.

I then reminded him that it was he who first proposed the option to begin with, though he, it seemed, had changed his mind since then. Meanwhile while I had never been opposed to the idea. On the contrary, I was growing restless. I pleaded with him constantly, begging him to string me on a line so as to make a tempting snare, yet much to my dismay, my words held no weight whatsoever in his mind. I was then compelled to pinpoint this as one of his more densely stubborn (even stupid) traits, yet neither did this tactic prove to steer him toward my course. Thick as he was, lazily defiant in every way imaginable, he wasn't going to listen.

I dropped the issue after that, succumbing to my fate that, rather than chasing Shadows, or allowing them to chase us, we were destined for the arcade to play bloody games that only I could see; to the bookshop to read fairy tales Mikoto said were common but that I had never heard of (and there we saw Reisi, but we didn't seem to stay long after that); then out to lunch to eat tomato spaghetti (though I ordered Mikoto a hamburger instead).

We got ice cream for dessert. I liked mine well enough; Mikoto's melted instantly. We went to the park for a while and soon found ourselves wandering through the center of town, passing shops and cafes like a pair of common people simply out 'having fun,' and of course, I captured said 'fun' onto film.

It was all well and good because Mikoto was there; it was always better with him, though he wasn't really all-there to begin with. Truthfully, neither was I. I just want this to be over, I thought. I was restless, irritable. Mikoto felt the same, though neither one of us constrained ourselves to mention it out loud. We were on a 'date.' That kind of thing tends to ruin the mood.

Further down, we came upon a grand intersection where we meant to cross, yet something in the corner of my eye attracted my attention and I turned, stuffing a hand inside my pocket, only to discover that I'd left my marbles at home.

In that moment, as though some unnamed voiced compelled me to the act, I held up Tatara's camera to my eye and stared, amazed at what I saw. It appeared my will to see the world was drawn into the lens and through it, I saw every color imaginable. It was brilliant, clear, a clean, untainted city, large and full of life.

Then my eyes were widened and I muttered something out. I cannot say for certain what it was, though in response, my consciousness entranced itself. Something faint, unknown and yet existent, called to me.

Without a thought, I drew my hand away from where it rested on Mikoto's wrist, my fingers having twiddled with the bracelet made and fastened there by Tatara only several months before.

Instinctively, Mikoto dropped his brow. I'm sure he hummed a question, turning down to look at me, but I had already gone.

I can't recall just what it was that drew me in so vehemently, I couldn't hear a thing; nor did I perceive the people, cars, the city bustling around me. Perhaps it was a feeling sucking me inside. Whatever it was I followed it down one street, then another, up a stair and round one final corner to a concrete yard surrounded by a well-trimmed hedge and rows of blooming sakura trees, their petals raining down upon a mighty metal sphere within the center of the yard – some decorative piece of artwork, I presumed. A fountain trickled outward from its top and ran along its curve into a little wishing pool, in which, the lower quarter of the sphere submerged itself.

A flock of birds trilled lightly overhead, circling the sphere as children might a may-pole. It was the sole disturbance other than the babbling of the fountain, therefore, I was drawn to look at it.

Then that 'feeling' I had witnessed drifted downward like a breeze. My eyes descended likewise, trailing after it, and settled on a white-haired figure sitting on a slab beside the pool. His legs were crossed, his head was bowed, his features drawn and focused on the pages of a book laid open in his palm.

He was a rather young man, perhaps eighteen years of age. He wore a navy blue uniform; no doubt, he belonged to an academy nearby, though at the time, I couldn't tell which one.

Other than himself, no other person could be found in my immediate vicinity. The courtyard lay secluded, practically invisible unless stumbled on by accident. If I myself had not been led expressly by what still eluded me, I wouldn't have suspected its existence.

I had been running when I came across the yard, and at the abrupt pacing of my heels turned all at once to silence, the young man lightly glanced up from his book and focused his attention onto me. His face was soft, his eyes near squinting shut in one large, genial smile. "Hello there!" he said.

I wasn't certain what to do. Clearly, I was brought here for a reason, I thought to myself. Is he the reason?

"Are you lost?" He asked.

Again, I didn't speak and merely held the camera up to him. The brightness of the city, the innumerable slews of definite shades remained, though when I drew the camera close and centered onto him, I saw no definition but a haze of many colors shifting in an inconclusive blur. It did not seem to come from him exactly: rather, it revolved itself around him, attracted like a magnet to his presence: smooth, ornate and fluid as a dance, the same that those small chirping birds produced above our heads.

At my continued silence, he rose, sending me a friendly wave. His smile widened (which I hadn't thought was possible but clearly, I was wrong) and he hunched himself a bit, trying not to seem so tall and menacing to me. In truth I wasn't frightened but I didn't mind the sentiment. He seemed kind, at least. "It's alright," he said. "I promise I won't bite. Would you like to sit down? I often come here to read," he added, holding the book aloft. "No one ever comes here, so it's always nice and peaceful. My name's Tōru — Tōru Hieda. What's yours?"

I peeled the camera down, revealing half my face. I must have seemed afraid to him. My massive eyes conveyed the look that always, I was terrified. I saw him bend his knees, setting hands upon them, and he sent a little chuckle through the air. "I said I wouldn't bite, and I meant it."

I probably should find out what this haze of non-color color is swirling around him, I decided. Cautiously, I took a step toward him.

Seeing my approach as some small victory, Tōru started to rise, appearing still as pleasant as before. "Now who might you be?" He asked again, this time with a little droll to his voice so as to flatter me.

He's so nice, I thought. So why do I feel this strange uneasiness? Is it him, or this vague air surrounding him? I bit my lip, contemplating a moment. I'll just have to ask him, I concluded, and I ventured on to speak. "I — "

"Anna!" Mikoto called behind me, and I whirled around to see his flamed — though not actually flamed — expression staring not at me, but at Tōru. I shifted back a glance to my new 'friend' and then Mikoto. He was stern, just like a statue, and for a moment, so was Tōru.

Under my breath, I whispered to Mikoto, "You feel it too?"

"There's something weird here," he said to me.

A void-piercing silence struck us as I searched Mikoto's face. Something rather explosive was on the verge of happening, though breaking through the tension in a mild, yet nevertheless disarming gesture, I heard Tōru's lovely laugh behind me.

"Well, it looks like you weren't lost for very long. Anna, is it? Well, Anna, I'm glad you found your way again." He sent a fleeting glance back to Mikoto, seemingly unperturbed, and then his eyes were lost inside another astronomical grin. "Perhaps I'll see you here again sometime." He turned and strutted off, passing round the fountain with his book in one hand and a friendly wave sent outward from the other.

"Who was that?" Mikoto asked, following Tōru with his death stare. I told him, and also what I'd seen, which he confirmed in more or less equal terms. Something about that boy unsettled both of us. The polychromatic fog permeating the air around him, masking him from total clarity, was like a signal we'd been waiting for, though what that signal was, we couldn't put our fingers on it.

"Don't ever do that again," Mikoto scolded me. Then taking my hand firmly into his — which he never did; without distinctly saying so, we both agreed it to be childish, though it didn't seem to matter in this instant — he led me back the way we came.

As we passed the sakura trees, soon to turn the corner that would mask the little haven from our view, I peered around my shoulder, glancing back into the yard. I thrust the camera up and caught the final glimmers of the haze that followed after Tōru like a flurry swirling gently in the breeze. It flickered with a sparkling aqua hue, then magenta, then a flash of green, and then it was gone.

Chapter Five: Reckless Red