A/N: Instalment 3 of 4!

**********July 11th 2011**********

87th and West Broadway

"Damn it, I have to go," Misaki said, standing up from the bar with his screen projected from his wristwatch.

"What for?" Izumo asked.

"No idea. He never tells me what he wants, he just sends me a location and expects me to be there."

"You kids are hilarious. Have fun!"

Misaki grabbed his skateboard from under the couch and headed out the door. He stepped outside into the blazing sun, stretched his arms and let out a loud sigh. It was a beautiful day. He tugged his sweater over his head and tied it around his waist before setting off on his skateboard, taking advantage of every set of stairs, curb, or railing he encountered.

He pulled up the location on his wristwatch as he headed down West Broadway; he didn't actually know where 87th was. He spotted the street and realized it was no more than a narrow side alley. What was Saruhiko up to this time? Usually he messaged him with locations like this if he'd found something cool or he was planning something. If he needed help he generally added 'hurry' to the end. He grew curious as he slowed on his board, turning the corner to find Saruhiko leaning against the wall with his phone in his hand.

"Took you long enough," Saruhiko said, sounding strangely irritated.

"What are you talking about? That was quick! What the hell is so urgent?" Misaki demanded, flipping his skateboard up into his hand.

"I thought you should be the first to know. I joined SCEPTER 4."

"You what?!" Misaki said.

"You heard me," Saruhiko said simply, grinning.

Misaki stared wide-eyed at his best friend, his jaw nearly hitting the ground. This had to be some sort of sick joke.

"You're kidding, right?"

"I'm not," Saruhiko said, his smile growing larger than ever.

As Misaki watched Saruhiko, the reality of the situation began to take hold of him. "Why? Why would you join the Blues?"

"It's stupid really," Saruhiko said, raising his arms in a shrug and igniting his Aura from his right hand. "We have these special powers, yet all we do act like a bunch of gangsters."

"Mikoto-san took you in when you had no where else to go! He gave you something to live for!" Misaki was livid. He'd known betrayal all his life, but he'd never expected it from Saruhiko.

"Mikoto is as bad as the rest of you. He's just the ringleader, violent and uncontrolled. He's ready to snap at any time."

"Saruhiko!" Misaki growled. "How dare you!" He grabbed Saruhiko by the collar and slammed him into the wall. "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!" His friend's smile didn't fade.

But he caught sight of Saruhiko's chest, coming face to face with his partner's HOMRA insignia. He released him and stared at the mark. "You have this engraved in your chest! This, a mark of our pride! Doesn't that mean anything to you?!"

"Pride hey?" Saruhiko said spitefully, "This is what I think of that pride." He ignited his Aura once more from his fingertips and dug his nails into his chest, grinning wildly. Misaki stepped back, watching, horrified, as Saruhiko clawed and burned at his insignia. "What do you think of that, Misaki?"

Misaki looked him in the eye, completely dumbfounded. The Saruhiko he'd known was nowhere to be found. All that was left was a sadistic, heartless, screwed up bastard. He seethed with anger, feeling his entire body ignite with his Aura. It was beyond his control. "Saruhiko, I swear to fucking God, if you go through with this, I will kill you."

"Challenge accepted, Misaki," Saruhiko responded, his eyes filled with malicious intent. "Wait and see what I'm going to become."

"You fucking traitor!"

Saruhiko's Red Aura ignited all around him, shielding him from view. It glowed red and hot for no more than a few seconds, and then it disappeared.

Misaki looked around as the smoke cleared. He was gone, and in more ways than one. He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his body. He was shaking with rage.

This couldn't be happening.

He fell to his knees and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't know what to do. Should he return to the bar? He'd have to sooner or later, but he wasn't sure he could face the others right now. He leaned backward against the wall and stared up at the sky from between the buildings. This was really happening…

He remained there for what felt like hours, unsure of what was actually going through his mind. He felt so many emotions, emotions that he hated so dearly, run through his mind. It felt like the day he'd left his parents' home.

He sluggishly dragged himself up off the ground, feeling as though his body was no more than dead weight. He picked up his skateboard, and feeling absolutely no desire to ride it, he began walking. He tucked the board under his right arm and buried his balled-up fists in his pocket. He cursed the blazing sun as it blinded him when he turned onto the main street. He felt as though it was insulting him, shining so brightly while his world was coming to an end.

He could scarcely feel anything as he slowly made his way back to the bar. He had to keep reminding himself of what had happened, and each time, he felt more alone than the last. He had no idea what he was going to tell the others. How would he tell them that one of their own had betrayed them? He felt so humiliated. How could he have let this happen? A part him felt as though he should have killed Saruhiko on the spot. Isn't that what 'gangsters,' as Saruhiko had called them, did? He felt his insides twist with disgust as he pictured the expression on Saruhiko's face. He had never seen that side of him.

He slowed as he approached the bar. What on earth was he going to say? There was no way he could keep this to himself. They needed to know, and he needed to let it out. Perhaps he had already been there and told them himself? Or worse, he could be there now. He stopped in his tracks, not wanting to go any further.

It took him a couple of minutes to gather his courage, but knowing that he couldn't avoid it forever and he might as well get it over with, Misaki stepped through the front door. He cringed as the bell chimed, alerting his comrades to his presence, screaming for them to drill him with questions about the whereabouts of his best friend. After a quick glance around, noting that only Izumo and Totsuka we're present, he hung his head and waited.

"Ah, Yata-chan. I've got a job for you," Izumo began. It took him mere seconds to realize something was off. "Yata? What's wrong? Where's Saru?"

"Yata-kun?" Totsuka asked with a deep sense of concern laced with his words.

He realized he was just drawing more attention to himself by remaining silent.

"He's gone," Misaki finally said.

"What do you mean he's gone?" Izumo questioned.

"I mean he's fucking gone!" Misaki said angrily, dropping his skateboard next to the door. He couldn't hold it back. He looked up to see Totsuka and Izumo exchange confused glances. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat and continued. "He joined the Blues."

"He what?!" The pair said simultaneously.

"You heard me," Misaki said. "I'm going upstairs."

It was done. Yet the worst part about sharing the information with the others was that it made it all the more real. He couldn't wait to get away from them, but as soon as he entered his room, he wished he were still downstairs. In front of him lied countless memories with his friend – or rather, former friend.

He gently pulled the door shut, staring around the room. He didn't know what to do. The room felt like it was swathed in a sheet of ice; a chill radiated around the room like he'd never felt before. A vivid image of his first night in this room entered his mind. At the time he'd still been recovering from his injuries, and Saruhiko was taking care of him despite his protests. He stared at the scar on the back of his right hand, remembering how Saru had changed the bandages every night, treating him like a child. He'd hated the gesture at the time, but he felt like now he would give anything to relive those moments. Leaning against the door, he felt his strength evaporate on the spot, and he slid down to the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his head in his arms.

I will not cry, he told himself.

He clenched his eyes shut and used everything he had left to force the threatening lump from his throat. He would not cry for Saru; he didn't deserve it. He had been the one to walk away.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, causing him nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Yata-chan," Izumo's voice came from the other side of the door.

"What," he said quietly, hearing his voice crack slightly. He knew that he had just indicated to Izumo that he was not only sitting on the floor against the door, but likely made it sound as though he was crying. He considered it for a moment, but decided it was the least of his worries right now.

"May I come in?" Izumo asked politely, quieting his voice upon realizing that Misaki was in very close proximity.

"No," he said stubbornly, feeling like a little kid who had just stormed out of his mother's presence.

Izumo was silent for a moment, likely caught off guard. "Well, Totsuka is making dinner, you should come down and eat," Izumo said awkwardly.

"Mm," Misaki said indecisively, hoping that the older man would just leave him alone.

"If you want to talk, you know where to find us," Izumo said, footsteps following.

"Leave me alone," he said quietly to no one in particular.

But you are alone, a voice inside him said.

He hugged himself tighter, feeling the sting of abandonment all over again. He felt like he was in that alley again, hiding under a piece of cardboard for shelter, feeling more alone than imaginable. Again, he felt like his world was ending. Saruhiko had become such a huge part of his world. He had finally found something stable in life; someone he could rely on and call his best friend. He had had such a hard time in the beginning, after what had happened with his parents. It had taken him so long to open up and trust Saru, but in the end it happened. He let Saruhiko in, more than he'd ever let anyone in before.

And just like that, it was over. None of it meant anything anymore.

A familiar feeling entered his mind, one that hadn't plagued him since that night in the alley. What had he done wrong? Was this all of his own making? Again?

It wasn't long before his brain became too muddled to think, and he finally pulled himself out of the doorway and onto the edge of his bed. He found himself staring down at the palms of his hands for no particular reason, then slowly clenching them into fists. Though his head didn't clear, he began to feel an overwhelming sense of anger. He wasn't sure if he was angry with Saruhiko, himself, or just the situation in general, but he knew one thing for sure; there was a burning sense of rage running through his body. He felt his aura ignite all around him, and he stood up off of his bed and walked across the room, meeting his own reflection in the closet mirror. The first thing that caught his eye was the tattoo below his left collarbone, the symbol of his pride and his bond with Saruhiko.

This is all your fault.

He felt his heartbeat quicken and his breathing grow stronger. Staring at the pathetic person in front of him, he smashed his right fist into the mirror, shattering it into a thousand pieces. He yelled at the top of his lungs, and fell to the floor once more. Pain seared through his hand, but he welcomed it. It made him feel not only alive, but like he had control over something. It was of his own making. He felt his body convulsing and his breaths come out in an uneven, shaking manner.

The last time he had broken down like this was not long after he'd first arrived here. He was tormented by his mother's abandonment, and despite his best effort to hide, Saruhiko had found him and comforted him. This time was similar; he'd once again been abandoned, but this time, no one would be there to pick up the pieces for him. He was alone.

He lingered on his hands and knees, head dropped between arms, remaining resolute. I will NOT cry for you.

**********July 18, 2011**********

"That's it, get up. Come on! Get up!"

Misaki was rudely awakened by Izumo who had barged into his room and was now turning on the light. He groaned and rolled over, burying his face in his pillow to evade the glaring lights.

"Get up. You've been locked in your room for a week straight. I don't know how you haven't starved to death. Ugh, it stinks in here. When was the last time you showered?" Izumo pulled up the blinds and opened the window. "This isn't healthy, you know that, right?"

"Go away," Misaki grunted, pulling his blankets over his head.

"No. Get out of bed and get in the shower. You're going to run some errands for me," Izumo said, pulling the blankets off Misaki's bed.

"Make me," he said, curling into a ball and facing the wall.

"Do you know what the term squatter means? It means you're living here rent-free, being fed and cared for. You broke my mirror last week and I overlooked it, but for my sake and yours, you're going to get out of this room for a while."

"No," he said stubbornly, pulling his pillow out from under his head and taking refuge under it.

"Yata Misaki, get up right now!" Izumo yelled, wrenching the pillow from his grasp and throwing it to the floor. "Don't make me get Mikoto in here. He doesn't have time for your childish behavior."

"Fine!" Misaki yelled, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He didn't make eye contact with Izumo as he left the room and headed for the washroom.

"You've lost weight, Yata-chan," Izumo said a little more sympathetically.

"Thanks," Misaki sarcastically shot back.

"Get cleaned up and come downstairs."

"Whatever," the red head said, slamming the washroom door, locking it and turning on the shower. He leaned over the sink, purposely avoiding the mirror, taking deep breaths. It was true, he hadn't left his bedroom in over a week, nor had he eaten anything substantial. He felt extremely weak, this being the first time he'd stood up for more than a few seconds. His head spun, and he clenched the counter top tightly to keep himself stable. He knew Izumo was right. It was getting ridiculous, but he just couldn't face the others, nor the outside world. Unfortunately, Izumo had taken away his current method of dealing with things: hiding.

Feeling horribly unsteady, he carefully found his way to the bathtub and climbed in. Pulling the curtain shut, he sat on the floor of the tub, allowing the hot water to run over his body. It felt incredibly soothing.

After several days of mourning the loss of his partner and best friend, his mind had become cloudy, almost comfortably numb. That numb feeling helped him evade emotion all together. He didn't want to lose that numb feeling, because it was the only circumstance in which it didn't particularly hurt. Any chance of throwing his head off balance meant that he'd have to face the grim reality of what had happened again. He figured that if he could ignore it for long enough, it would eventually go away. And so he did his best to completely avoid feelings and emotions.

It took him about 30 minutes of sitting under the steady flow of hot water to gather the resolution to face the world again, not that he had a choice. As the water began to run cold, he shut it off and dragged himself up and out of the tub. He managed to remain standing long enough to dress himself and make his way downstairs.

He entered the room and headed straight for a barstool. Izumo, Totsuka and Anna were the only ones present. Misaki half wondered if Izumo had chosen this particular time to drag him out of bed since no one else was around. He was always subtly doing things like that. Deep down, Misaki knew his intentions were pure, and that he had his best interests at heart.

"Wow, you got him out of bed," Totsuka said to Izumo. "What did you say?"

"That I was sending Mikoto in," Izumo smiled, drying a wine glass and placing it on the shelf.

Totsuka took the empty barstool beside Misaki. "It was an empty threat, my friend. Mikoto isn't even here."

"Oh," Misaki said simply. He didn't have the energy to fight.

"Here," Izumo said, putting a plate with a sandwich in front of him.

Misaki was grateful. He'd been spared the embarrassment of having to ask. "Thanks," he muttered.

A week without eating had destroyed his appetite, not to mention the size of his stomach. He barely got through half of the sandwich before pushing the plate away and laying his head on the bar. He felt sick.

"Come on Yata-chan, even Anna can do better than that," Izumo commented, putting a glass of water beside him. He picked it up and downed it in seconds.

Misaki ignored him. "What is it that you want me to do?" He asked.

"Yata-kun, you're really pale," Totsuka said, leaning in to get a better look at his face.

He turned his head away. "Well?" He demanded.

"I was going to ask you to go pick up the new mirror. You can do it later though if you don't feel well," Izumo said, picking up a yellow carbon copy form off of the counter.

Misaki leaned over and snatched the paper from his hands. "Where is it?"

"About ten blocks east. It's not as big as the old one. You should be able to carry it without a problem."

Misaki jumped down off the stool. He grabbed his skateboard from where it was leaning against the wall next to the door and left the building. He still felt sick, not to mention weak, but he needed to get away from Izumo and Totsuka. Perhaps he'd feel more tolerant later.

He tossed his skateboard on the ground and ran it, hoping on. Pushing off with his right foot several times, he gathered speed and kicked up onto the curb. Despite the weakness he felt in his body, it was the most alive he'd felt in days. It felt good to be out of bed and back on his skateboard.

He grinned to himself; Izumo always knew.

When he arrived at the shop Izumo had indicated, he found that the mirror wasn't ready; nor was it supposed to be ready until next week, which was clearly indicated at the top of the page.

As he exited the shop, he had a feeling that Izumo had indeed known this fact. He took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air. It felt great.

He managed to keep his mind on nothing but skateboarding all the way back to the bar, pulling all the tricks he could convince his body to conduct. He fell once on a jump that was obviously too high for his body in its starved condition, but he managed to roll onto his shoulder and remained unscathed.

"Your mirror isn't ready, Kusanagi-san. It's not due until next week," Misaki said, slapping the form down on the bar approximately an hour later.

"Ah sorry, Yata-chan," Izumo said grinning knowingly. "That took you a while; you must have taken the long way."

Misaki didn't respond.

"Feel better?" Izumo asked.

"Yeah. Thanks," he said, turning his face away from the bartender. He felt extreme appreciation towards the man.

"Look, I had Totsuka move your stuff out of your old room and into the one on the floor above. You'll have more space up there and a bigger bed. I'm going to move Bando and Shohei into your old room. I figured you'd be ok with it."

Both Izumo and Misaki knew well that Saruhiko wouldn't be coming back, and although it stung, Misaki knew it was for the best.

He nodded.

**********April 29, 2012********

"Come on Yata-san, there's nothing here. Let's get out of here," Rikio said.

"Fine, fine," Misaki reluctantly agreed. The park was growing dark and was now nearly deserted.

"Well, well, well," a voice came from the end of the park.

Misaki looked up to see a familiar silhouette. Even without seeing the person properly, he knew who it was.

"If it isn't Misaki and his faithful pet," the voice taunted.

"Yata-san?" Rikio questioned.

Misaki said nothing, but waited for the man to get closer.

"Isn't it past your curfew? What would Mikoto say?"

"Saruhiko…" Misaki said somewhat quietly, with a particular loathing in his voice.

"What are you doing here, Misaki?" Saruhiko asked teasingly.

Misaki cringed at the way Saruhiko said his name. He had been the only person other than his parents to ever call him by that name. While he wasn't about to admit it, it still stung, even 9 months later. But there was no way he would let it show.

"What's it to you, Saru?" Misaki countered.

"Hmm what was it you said last time we spoke? That you would kill me? Please, Misaki, don't disappoint me," his former partner taunted.

"Is that why you came here?" Misaki asked.

"I've been waiting to run into you, Misaki, I want to play with you." The twisted grin on his former comrades face sent a shiver down his spine.

"Quit calling me that. You think you know me?!" Misaki demanded, getting frustrated. He wasn't going to play Saruhiko's game. The traitor didn't deserve the time of day.

"Come on, Yata-san, let's get out of here," Rikio urged.

Misaki stared a moment longer at Saruhiko. There were so many things he wished he could say, but he wouldn't. He turned away, following Rikio.

"Let's go," Misaki said.

"How are things with Mikoto, Misaki? He seems to be losing his nerve. Have you not seen the conditions of his Sword of Damocles lately? What are you going to do when he's gone? Then where will you go? Who will you flock to?"

He could hear the grin in Saruhiko's voice. He stopped in his tracks, willing himself not to turn around.

"Yata-san," Rikio said, sounding slightly worried.

"What a person to envy. He's fueled by nothing but violence. Is that what you aspire to be, Misaki?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Misaki said, finally turning to face his former best friend.

"If that's the case, you should be more than willing to play. That's what it's all about, isn't it? Violence?"

Misaki turned just in time to see Saruhiko engulfed in his Blue Aura. Misaki's heart skipped a beat. It wasn't right. But at the same time, something about it suited him.

"You're one to talk," Misaki said. He dropped his skateboard in front of him, producing his Aura from his right hand.

"Yata-san! Don't!" Rikio yelled desperately. "What is fighting him here going to accomplish?"

Misaki knew he was right, but he wasn't about to let Saruhiko get away with mouthing off, not after everything that had happened.

Saruhiko laughed manically, "That's more like it!" He drew a long saber from its sheath at his waist.

"So you can use your right arm again," Misaki commented. He knew there had been lingering damage after Saruhiko had been stabbed there. As far as Misaki remembered, he wouldn't have been able to perform the action he'd just seen.

"Munakata-sama has access to the best medical care in the country. Something I doubt Mikoto could ever provide," Saruhiko said, grinning proudly.

Misaki's stomach churned. "The fact that you can even say that man's name makes me sick," he said quietly, feeling his Aura release around him. "And don't you dare disrespect Mikoto-san! He took you in off the streets! When no one else wanted you! He gave you a home!" Misaki yelled. He was getting angry now. This wasn't the person he had known. Or was it?

"Your king will never compare to mine," Saruhiko said, smiling. It was the most genuine expression Misaki had seen yet.

He stood staring at Saruhiko, clad in his new blue uniform, collar popped, sleek saber in hand. But what really caught Misaki off guard was his posture. He carried himself with much more confidence than he had ever seen.

"Shut your fucking mouth!" Misaki shouted, releasing a burst of Aura. He couldn't help but feel that it was weaker than usual.

Saruhiko held his sword ceremoniously in front of his body. "Fushimi, ready," he said.

Misaki had heard enough. He mounted his skateboard and raced forward, ignoring Rikio's persistent objections.

Saruhiko continued to laugh, preparing himself to block Misaki. He sidestepped Misaki's first lunge, turning in conjunction with the skateboarder's sharp turn, but not completely ready for the punch Misaki threw at him. His glasses fell to the ground, but he swung his saber in a skillful manner, causing Misaki to have to dive off of the skateboard to evade the attack.

"You've gotten quicker, Misaki," Saruhiko said. Misaki was unsure as to whether or not Saruhiko was teasing him.

"You haven't. You're weaker than ever," Misaki said.

"Well, you're wrong about that," Saruhiko said casually, picking up his glasses and sliding them back up his nose. "I've gained much, much more power since leaving you and HOMRA."

"You fucking traitor!" Misaki bellowed. Again he jumped on to his skateboard, picking up speed and urging his Aura to ignite. Something still didn't feel quite right, but he continued full speed regardless.

They pair exchanged blows, neither really coming out on the upper hand. Growing frustrated, Misaki ignited his Aura as forcefully as possible, but was shocked to find that Saruhiko put up and equally strong barrier. The Red and Blue waves pummeled each other, but Misaki jumped aside when his was finally overwhelmed, the Blue overcoming it like water on fire. He lunged to the left, realizing he likely only had one chance left to get in a good blow since his Aura had been out-competed. He timed his attack to the second that the Blue Aura dissolved; the moment when Saruhiko would not be able to regenerate it quickly enough. He leapt, but was spent backward by what appeared to be a burning red bullet. He felt an overwhelming pain in his right shoulder, and glanced down to find a glowing red knife protruding from the joint.

"Yata-san!" He tuned back in to hear his comrade's shouts.

"Stay out of this, loser!" Saruhiko screamed, launching more knives in Rikio's direction.

Misaki gritted his teeth as the pain radiated all the way down his dominant arm.

"Like I said, Misaki, I've acquired much more strength." As he said the words, each of his hands glowed with a different coloured Aura.

"How?" Misaki said through clenched teeth. "WHY?!" He screamed. He ripped the knife out of his arm, dropping it to the ground, preparing himself once more.

But Misaki heard a rustling from the bushes behind him. Rikio shouted in surprise as five men jumped out. Misaki quickly realized they were his clansmen.

"Tch… I'm not stupid enough to play with these odds," Saruhiko said, re-sheathing his sword. Before any of them had a chance to pursue him, he was gone into the darkness.

"Yata-san! Are you alright?" Rikio said, running to his side.

"YOU FUCKING TRAITOR!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, forcing all of his pain into the sentiment.

"Yata-san!" Rikio said, shaking him by his good arm.

"What happened?" Chitose asked, hurrying to where Misaki had now fallen to the ground, clenching his right arm, but without a pained expression on his face. He was stunned by what had just transpired.

"He just sort of appeared," Rikio said, "Come on, Yata-san, we're leaving," he said forcefully, pulling Misaki's left arm around his own neck and dragging him into a standing position. "Are you going to come on your own or am I going to have to drag you?" Rikio threatened.

"Let me go, bastard," Misaki said, wrenching his arm from Rikio's grasp. "I'm going, ok?!"

"Good," Rikio said, picking up Misaki's skateboard.

Misaki held his hand over the wound, obediently following his comrades back to the bar.

"What happened?" Izumo demanded as the walked in the door.

"Fushimi-kun happened," Rikio said, grabbing Misaki by the left arm and shoving him towards Izumo.

"What?!" Izumo exclaimed, but then caught sight of the blood on Misaki's shirt and veered his attention to that. "Yata-chan, are you ok?"

"Fine," he said, avoiding eye contact. He knew Izumo wasn't referring to the wound.

"Thanks for covering us," Rikio said to the others.

"Hey, that's what we're here for," Fujishima said.

"I had it," Misaki said.

"You had nothing!" Rikio said. He was clearly frustrated by the whole event.

Izumo looked at Misaki, then at Rikio who shook his head. "Well, let's take care of that wound. Shit you guys, I should have an MD with all the injuries I treat here. It'd be nice if you could be a bit more careful."

"I'm going to bed," Rikio said, still shaking his head. The others followed him upstairs, leaving Misaki alone with Izumo.

Misaki pulled off his sweater and let Izumo at the wound.

"Man, Yata-chan, since when was Fushimi stronger than you?" Izumo asked good naturedly, pressing a gauze pad to his shoulder. "Hold that."

Misaki did as he was told. "He wasn't."

"Wait, was this from his saber?"

"No, it was his knife. He has both colours now," Misaki said.

"What? Really? I didn't think that was possible," Izumo said, looking more closely at the cut. "But I guess it would explain why there's no burn. You can't be scorched by Red Aura."

Misaki said nothing; he simply turned his head away.

"I don't think it needs stitches, but you're going to need to take it easy or it will just keep bleeding."

"Mm," Misaki said. He'd been patched up by Izumo so many times that he really didn't think anything of it.

"Are you ok?" Izumo asked.

"Mm," Misaki repeated, staring at the floor.

Izumo grabbed his shoulders and looked him in the eye.

"I'm fine!" Misaki insisted, glancing into Izumo's eyes briefly, but quickly looking away. It was as though by permitting eye contact, he was allowing Izumo a window straight into his heart, and he wasn't about to let that happen.

Izumo stared for a moment longer, but then returned his attention to the wound. He cleaned it and then wrapped it with layers of sterile gauze.

"You can go to bed, but come get me if it bleeds through. If you don't move around too much you should be fine."

"K," he said, acknowledging Izumo so to not be drilled with questions. He hopped off the stool and headed up to his bedroom, locking the door behind him. He took his shoes off then climbed into bed, still fully clothed. He'd never felt more wide-awake.

He couldn't get the image of Saruhiko's twisted smile out of his mind. What had happened to him? He had never been that deranged before he left HOMRA. While he had felt extremely confused the night Saruhiko had left, he now felt like he'd never even known him. It was as though he was a totally different person. He rolled over in his bed to face the wall. He felt the sting from Saruhiko's blade in his arm, but it was nothing to the sting he felt in his heart. Two hours ago, he'd been confident that he was over the bastard's betrayal, but seeing him again like that had re-opened so many wounds, not to mention created new ones. Once he'd gotten over the initial shock, the hardest part for Misaki had been not knowing why. It seemed to be the story of his life. He just didn't understand, and it hurt.

He tried to convince himself that the tears threatening were a result of the shoulder wound, but he was fairly certain it wasn't the reason.

Man the fuck up, he told himself. He was the one who betrayed you.

He knew it was true. Saruhiko had been the one who had left, so why should he still be mourning his loss? He had done such a good job over the last several months teaching himself to be angry and to simply hate his former partner, only to have it all shattered in one night.

His ex-friend's appearance continued to haunt him. There was something different about him though. He portrayed so much more confidence than Misaki had ever seen with his ugly blue uniform and stupid popped collar. It made him want to vomit. The Saruhiko he had known had always teased him, but he'd been modest and humble. But in a way, he seemed happy. As his friend, shouldn't he be happy for him? He couldn't find it in himself to feel that way.

His shoulder burned in painful reminder of how badly he'd been beaten. Izumo was right, Misaki would never have lost to Saruhiko in the past if they had fought. He had always been strong for someone of his size, stature and lack of experience. Yet Saruhiko, who had never been as strong, had beaten him. Misaki remembered how faint his Aura had felt. Could that have been because he was fighting Saruhiko? Was it because his heart wasn't really in the battle? Could he ever really convince himself to truly hate Saru enough to fight him?

That nasty little voice continued to whisper in his mind; he was the one who betrayed you.

Misaki groaned loudly and sat up in a fit of rage. Exercising some self-control, he pounded his fist into his pillow rather than the wall. But even with the pitiful action, he felt the pain from Saruhiko's knife emanate down his arm. Would he be forever weakened because of him?

He held his hand to his shoulder and heaved a deep sigh. He needed to get over this.

Feeling dampness on his arm, he realized that the wound was bleeding profusely again. Frustrated, he stood up and flicked on the lights to find that the bandage was soaked with blood. He glanced over at the clock.

10:45.

It was still early; Izumo would still be downstairs. He didn't feel like bleeding all over his sheets tonight.

He opened his bedroom door and headed out into the hall, making his way to the stairs. But he stopped in his tracks as he heard hushed voices coming from downstairs. He immediately recognized Mikoto's voice.

"What happened?" Mikoto asked.

"I guess Fushimi showed up when Yata and Rikio were doing their rounds. Anna saw it." Izumo replied.

"I see. So you sent the others out?"

"Anna wouldn't have said anything if it wasn't a cause for concern."

"True," Mikoto said in a board manner. "Everyone got out ok though?"

Misaki thought this was very uncharacteristic of Mikoto. It wasn't like him to voice his worry for his clansmen; it was one of the reasons that Misaki respected him so much. When he had first come to HOMRA after he'd been found in the back alley, Mikoto was the only person who didn't treat him as though he was going to break. And yet, he still portrayed some sense of compassion.

"Yata was wounded, but it's nothing serious. Mikoto, have you ever heard of someone possessing two colours?"

Mikoto sounded surprised. "Why?"

"Yata said Fushimi had both Red and Blue Aura."

Misaki turned from the spot he was standing. He didn't want to hear Mikoto's reaction to the fact that the person who betrayed him was still using his power. It was cowardly, and Misaki felt a great sense of shame over it. He instead rerouted himself to the bathroom, deciding he would clean up the wound himself. As a result, he missed the last piece of his superiors' conversation.

"It means that he still holds allegiance and loyalty to someone from our clan," Mikoto said assuredly. "And I'm willing to bet that person is not me."

A/N: I will point out that I do my best to change up scenes that actually happened in the anime, as it's a) boring to read the same thing you've already seen, and b) impossible to rewrite it perfectly.

I would like to extend a HUGE thank you to those of you who reviewed. As any writer knows, it's such a morale boost to hear that people are enjoying your work. And just so you know, I reply to EVERY review posted (unless submitted anonymously), so even if you'd just like to chat, drop me a review or PM! I'm also happy to answer any questions you might have.

Thank you to:

ComposingJealousy, Blood Tiara, Mi-chan story's, Sque-Fangirl, UrBaN AnGeL 9896, miyame-chan, Aqulic, Kyrie, Lariak, and the two anons who reviewed!

Your support really does mean the world to me :)