Hello to you all!

I finally upload this story! I am so sorry I took so long but I have faced and I am still facing some personal problems but I am getting better. :)

Warning: This chapter contains LSW spoilers! Don't read if don't want to.

My sincere apologies to everyone and a huge thank you to everybody who sent me reviews, followed it and favourite. Thank you for not giving up on this story.

I was actually stuck to what to write next but LSW thoughts just came flowing into the Word Document.

If it's not asking too much, please leave a review just to know if you were happy with this chapter. :)

Thank you for reading. :)

"Saru…", the little crow stood there gazing at Saruhiko, still envolved by Mikoto's strong arms which were still crushing him and making him unable to escape from Mikoto's grasp.

Those three words of apology had hit Misaki in the heart. There was something about the way Saruhiko said them that made Misaki uneasy whether to hug Saruhiko and tell him it was okay, that after all he was still his friend after everything but there was a small part of him who just wanted to cry and let Saruhiko suffer in Mikoto's arm while we would look away. There was a small part of him that wished Saruhiko would just keep crying and screaming for all the hurt we was feeling, just like Misaki once experienced when the betrayal took place.

Before Saruhiko left HOMRA for Scepter4, Misaki and him still shared the same apartment they had rented in their middle schools years. They had spent some amazing times there, where they both had dreamt to conquer the world together. Childish thoughts, but Misaki had believed they could do it as long as they were together. He was sure he would make awesome things with Fushimi and that meant the world to him.

Now, in that lonely, cold apartment full of broken dreams, promises and suffocating memories, Misaki would shred bitter, regretful tears in his bed. He slept, or so he convinced himself that he rested, while facing the old, scattered old door of their apartment, hoping Fushimi would come again and tell him he was just messing with Misaki and he was an idiot to believe it. When the sun rised, Misaki would wake up and would push himself as high as he could to bed above his and would say in his cheerful tone "Good morning, Saru!" only to find out a intact, carefully made bed with no signs of people having slept on it and his face would fell into agony and sadness that were present in his heart. He thought while in the middle of sleeping and still be awake hearing a door close, only to gaze at it in the morning and find out it was still locked and untouched just like he left it last night.

This routine was becoming such a habit for Misaki to find all his hopes were nothing but illusions of his mind and the real cold, harsh true would greet him with an empty apartment. One day, Misaki couldn't take this suffocating memories anymore and so he packed all his belongings into his gym bag from high school. While he was packing, he headed himself into the desk Fushimi so frequently used with his computer (cheap parts that Fushimi joined together) all turned off and cables out of place but what caught his attention was Fushimi's watch – the same watch he had made for Yata but with a bigger screen and other applications Yata didn't understand. He had used it to communicate with Yata and he left it behind, forgotten in that pile of cables and cheap parts of the computer he joined together.

Yata felt a fury and anger emerge from him as well as new tears forming in his amber eyes and just turned around and headed faster to the exit door. Without looking behind, he just closed the door with a loud "bam".

The last rays of sun lit the forgotten apartment full of memories of a broken friendship and Fushimi's clock ticked and echoed, marking 7:20 p.m and a white tab forgotten open by someone showed on the holographic screen. In the metal surface of the battery it was written Saruhiko Fushimi.

As much as Misaki wanted to hug Saruhiko right now and tell him things would be alright, his legs wouldn't move neither words would come out of his mouth. He just stood there silently, watching Saruhiko curl up in pain and trying to breath properly.

"Mi-Misaki…", it was almost a whisper by now.

Misaki looked at him, fists closed up to not be seen trembling. He opened his mouth.

"Misaki Yata? Where have I heard that name before? AH. I recall a middle school brat who showed up at my home and was fast asleep in the kitchen table. Hahah. You're still as short as when I saw you for the first time!", a deep, cheerful voice with hints of sarcasm and familiarity could be heard behind Yata.

That moment was one Fushimi most feared all his life. That was one of his darkest nightmares he had since he got the confirmation of the obit. He had never slept peacefully since that person had departed. His shadow had always stayed in Fushimi's mind tormenting him.

Needless to say that he knew perfectly well the owner of that voice. His number one enemy, the one who destroyed all his dreams and hopes since he was born, the one who broke his self-conscience into pieces and stepped into them and would laugh in his face to manage to shatter everything he accomplished, whose blood run in his veins and whose flesh gave form to him.

Saruhiko found himself shivering uncontrollably and he thanked for the first time, Mikoto holding or better saying squeezing him or else his knees would have not been able to support his weight anymore.

Eyes wide open, Saruhiko gulped hard and looked at the shadow behind Yata.

"YOU…"

Confused by Saruhiko sudden extremely panicked face, Yata turned around and saw a tall, slim, pale figure staring at him. His right hand was holding his chin and his eyes shore in an interesting way as he focused his gaze on Yata. In his sicken, purple and blue licks there was a taunting smirk and huge black shadows covered his eyes while a big bang of black hair covered his left eye. His clothes were ripped in some bits and spots with a black shirt and black pants with lots of chains, crosses and skulls on his neck and pants, but the first time Yata concentrated his gaze on that figure, he could have swear briefly that that man was wearing a white hospital robe. Skin as pale as snow, his veins were clear in his hands. Blue and purple married the skin of that figure who he felt like looking at a replica of a certain someone.

Misaki looked at his hands, face and any exposed flesh he could see. Very pale like someone sick, his hands were like ones of an old person – deformed by rugs and shivering uncontrollably.

"Oi! If it isn't my little monkey! I bet you missed me like crazy, didn't you?", he laughed in an amused yet sarcastic way, ignoring Yata and stepping in front of him, facing Saruhiko.

"Hm? Are you not going to greet your daddy, little monkey?", the figure closed the distance between him and Saruhiko and grabbed Saruhiko's chin whose face was turned away, eyes closed, breathing errantly and shaking his head, muttering something to himself, again and again and forced Saruhiko to look at him. "Oh, no. These are not the ways I taught you. No, no."

Light, icy, enraged blue opened up to meet up with dark, knowing, cruel blue eyes.

Still holding Saruhiko's chin and feeling Saruhiko's rage and fear in his eyes, he smiled in a cruel way he knew so well.

"You're… Niki Fushimi. Saruhiko's father."

Niki turned away and looked behind him.

"Quite perceptive our little friend here", Niki mocked. "And you are that middle school brat named Misaki Yata who was taking care of my little monkey when he caught a cold. Such a sweet guy…", Niki rubbed his chin.

"You have done so many things for him: leaving high school to follow him, living your family to live with him, asking the Red King here to save him from his death… A loyal puppy to his owner. And in the end, getting betrayed. Again."

"…", Yata bowed his head. Everything Niki said…

"You did many things for a person who never deserved any of them.", Niki pointed at Saruhiko, who looked away, eyes shining.