The Red Queen Chapter 3: Knubble


Kaida adjusted her grip on her bag when the air around them changed. The fast paced anonymity of the city shifted away from them. They had the attention of everyone surrounding them.

A knife clicked to her right before the blade pressed against her throat. Kaida stood very still, surprised by this change of pace.

Mikoto and Kusanagi, who now insisted she call him Izumo, had taken to walking her home, or to the Nanakamado Research Center and Hospital, where she had an 'after school job'. It was fun, walking between the two of them down the city streets. Mikoto was as chill as anyone she had ever met, and Izumo had no problem keeping up conversations or flirting with her.

Some days they even had a tail, a little middle schooler who thought Mikoto was the cat's pajamas.

This was the first time they had ever had any trouble.

Kaida frowned, letting her bag drop from her shoulder to the ground below. Her favorite charm bounced on the ground, a little tiger clawing off the zipper on her side pocket. If the assailants said anything she didn't hear it.

In one smooth move she grabbed the hand holding the knife and pushed it away from her, turning herself and the arm until she was in a position to break it. As the knife holder screamed numbers flashed before her eyes, unwanted, and hid it when someone else came barrelling out to punch her in the face.

"Motherfucker!" she stumbled back, gripping her nose. She screwed her eyes shut to shut out the distractions. The air shifted and she grabbed the person that was trying to hit her. She rolled with the weight, taking them to the ground.

It wasn't the way she normally fought. It wasn't graceful, it wasn't fast strikes and agility, dancing away before she could be hurt. It wasn't smacking people with a stick from too far to be touched, and it certainly wasn't slicing through the air with a sword.

It was messy, her leg tore where the skirt moved up and her socks didn't reach and an elbow dug into her side. She couldn't see even if she opened her eyes.

Kaida punched him, something broke under her fist. The girl twisted, kicking hard something soft. A high pitched whine exited him. She scrambled up, the throbbing behind her eyes finally fading. She looked at a man that lunged at her and met him halfway, punching with everything she had. There was no gold, no grace. Just blood where his face caved under her fists and sweat that ran across her skin.

The man under her stopped moving eventually and Kaida stood up, blood on her hands. She glanced around and found herself the last one fighting. Everyone who had surrounded them before was either on the ground or running off.

Mikoto and Izumo were standing there, staring at her.

Heat lifted her face and she scrambled to smooth her skirt.

"Um," she said. The pavement certainly was interesting, wasn't it?

"So much for not liking fighting," Mikoto said. Kaida looked up, startled, in time to see a smile grace his face. Her face got hotter at the sight.

Mikoto rested a warm hand on top of her head, messing up her short hair.

"C'mon. Let's get you home."

Kaida turned and trailed after him, trying to hide a smile as he lead the way to her house. No one else was home, so she let them come in after her. It was plain, pristine and clean. It looked more like a stage than a home. No one was ever around to live in it.

Kaida disappeared long enough to switch out of her school uniform and wash off her knee before she appeared to sit on the couch with her friends. She crossed her legs and leaned back on the couch, a smile still fixed on her face.

"You know, for someone who 'doesn't like fighting' you've had a skip in your step since you did fight," Izumo observed.

Kaida shrugged, looking away.

"It's… complicated," she said at last. Mikoto stretched himself across the couch, making himself at home. Kaida flushed when his head slipped back to cradle in the dip between her hip and her leg. Mikoto was shameless!

His amber eyes stared up at her, burning. She swallowed thickly, finding she couldn't look away.

"I- I always feel like, like there's something inside of me. Something hot and tight and it never goes away unless I'm fighting, or unless I've just fought. It makes me sick, but sometimes it gets worse. It gets bigger and hotter and I feel like if I don't do anything it'll swallow me whole."

"You should fight more then," Mikoto advised.

"I can't just go around starting fights," she objected. She was a Rabbit, the elite, and she had a responsibility to her family name.

"Why not?" Mikoto closed his eyes, utterly relaxed against her. "If you don't let some of that feeling out, it will consume you. "

Kaida had no idea at the time, but Mikoto knew all about being consumed by emotions.

There was an abrupt knock at the door. Kaida looked at Izumo, since she couldn't exactly move with Mikoto on top of her. She knew she could have just shoved him onto the floor and he, a boy with no power and no connection to the Dresden Slate, would just fall onto the floor. The problem was, she didn't want to. She found that she rather liked having him in his lap, the warmth of his body radiating into her and the familiar scent of cedar and cardamon floating up to meet her. Lately, a tinge of ash had joined it.

Kaida gently brushed his back out of his face and up into the rest of it. He looked up at her. Before, she would have called his expression unreadable. Now, she knew he thought she was being silly.

"It looks good this way," she defended, pouting.

The door was opened to reveal a familiar head of pale hair. The boy from the window.

"Totsuka," she recognized. He had begun to follow the trio around for the past couple of weeks. He shouldn't. If he knew what was good for him, he would stay away from trouble makers like the three of them.

"Hi," he smiled at them amiably. Kaida had never seen him when he wasn't smiling. He was so young, almost a full four years their junior. "Can I come in?"

Mikoto said, "No." Izumo shut the door in his face with a helpless shrug.

"Rude," Kaida accused.

"Did you want him in here?" Mikoto challenged.

Kaida didn't have an answer for that. She went back to fixing his hair the way she liked it, playing with the soft strands. It was such a pretty red. It matched his amber eyes well, offset in the dim light of her house. She liked him here. With her, in her home. With Mikoto and Izumo it didn't feel so empty.

With Mikoto, the burning in her veins was a pleasant heat instead of an oppressive, dangerous poison.

When neither of them were looking, Izumo took a picture.