Chapter two is finally here, everyone! Sorry for such a long wait – I was occupied with other things and, even when I sat down to write this, it seemed to take ages. Ah, well, it's here now. I do hope you enjoy it~

Fliggy: Just practicin' hurdles, Clumps.

Taz: Here's what happens next~

Guest: I'm glad you liked it! :D thanks for your review~~~

DeidaraUlquiorra: ooo I like that idea. I might use it! And for the big reveal, I have it alllllll planned out. And Fushimi doesn't know that Yata's first name is Misaki, or the other way around… yet…

Call Me Tom: whatalovelylongreviewomgthankyou All your questions will be answered… patience, young one.

"Yata-chan!" Totsuka called (with his newly-adapted nickname) from one of the isles, "what about this one?"

Hearing the blonde, Yata's face jerked up and he slung the top he was holding over his arm. He pushed past a woman next to him who was holding the same thing in a larger size and then battled his way through other over-excited females, who were also currently engaged in the dangerous act of shopping at a 90% everything-must-go sale. Kamamoto was attempting to struggle through behind him to get himself through the crowd of people. He was lugging Yata's chosen pair of skinny jeans over his left shoulder, his larger body dwarfing them.

They followed their youngest friend's voice and eventually located him by a collection of dresses on display. He was holding one up in the air, angled towards them, as they got there, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

Yata's head titled to one side, eyeing the outfit carefully as he approached. From Misaki's point of view, it was absolutely gorgeous – a softly gradient blue colour with pastel lace trimmings at the hem and straps. Ruffles got increasingly bigger and flowed outwards down the dress, giving a light and weightless appearance. A look of curiosity grew on his face.

"What size is it?" he reached out and ran the fabric through his fingers, surprised at how soft it felt on his skin. It would go flawlessly with the white boots he had back at home.

"Yours," Totsuka's expression was that of accomplishment as he replied.

Yata looked down at his own body, which was a little bigger than his female counterpart's. It would probably come to just above Misaki's knees, maybe a little higher. If he loved it, Saruhiko would, too.

"It's perfect," Yata couldn't keep the smile off of his lips. He turned to Kamamoto, "what do you think, Rikio-san?"

The bigger man also had part of the dress in his fingers, except said part was made of paper. "…I think the price tag is very big," he raised his eyebrows at the numbers.

"Price? Where? Let's see."

Several women turned in their direction when they heard Yata's yell.

"And this is in the sale?" he asked in disbelief, glancing worriedly at Totsuka.

"Yep! Glad I found it, huh?"

The look of shock wouldn't leave his face.

"Can you even afford this, Yata-san?" Kamamoto questioned sceptically, "what would you even need it for, anyway?"

"Well," he shrugged, "Misaki needs… new clothes."

"I'd figured that – it's why we're here," he replied, "but clothes that cost as much as this? You could buy tons of cheaper stuff for over half this price, Yata-san."

"But I like it, though," he pulled out his wallet and counted the notes inside, "and I have just enough. Come on, let's go and pay for this thing before some crazy lady grabs it. I've spent my time in sales before and, compared to them, this one is quiet."

As they walked (battled) to the counter, Yata couldn't help but notice the stares they were getting. When it was just him shopping, no one really gave him a second glance. They could make the assumption that he was just picking something up for a girl, or was perhaps just a cross-dresser . But three guys and one seriously expensive dress? That was a bit out of the ordinary, at least.

The cashier seemed to share the same opinion. She gave him a weird look when he passed it over the counter, along with the few tops and skirts he had picked up that he could afford.

Yata couldn't help but wince when she read out the price (rather loudly, as well – loud enough for the queue behind to become interested) and he quickly handed over the money.

"Who're you buying this for, then?" the inevitable question came.

Yata glanced back at his friends for support, but they didn't really provide any (intentionally or not). Totsuka did smile and pat his back, though. Kamamoto laughed.

He was blushing profusely when he answered, "my… my girlfriend. It's her birthday soon, and I wanted to get her… something special."

The dress was neatly folded and tucked in a bag along with everything else.

"It's very special indeed," the cashier replied, "one of our most expensive items on sale at the moment."

"…Yeah," he grabbed the bag and started to struggle back to the shop entrance, "thanks."

"Where to next, Yata-chan?" Totsuka asked as they walked out of the shop.

"Well…we have pretty much everything… except…" he looked down at what he'd bought, before pulling a slip of paper out of his pocket. All but one item on there had a line through it, he realised, when he saw what the final thing was… "shit…"

"What's wrong?" that was Kamamoto.

"I…Misaki needs to get underwear."

"Well, that was interesting," Kamamoto said, putting his hands behind his head.

Totsuka watched Yata as they walked; watching him hastily shoved mismatched underwear into his shopping bags. He was trying desperately not to let the two blondes see what he had got (stolen) for the sake of Misaki's decency.

"What's the time?" he asked to keep his 'new' lingerie off the position of subject title.

"About half past two," Rikio held up his phone.

Yata nodded, "that means I have about…"

"Three hours and seventeen minutes until the sun sets," Totsuka finished, then grinned when Yata gave him a surprised look. "Kamamoto-san and I want to help you, Yata-chan. We can't exactly know what you're going through on a personal level, but," he put his hand on the smaller's shoulder, "we want to help as best we can."

Rikio smiled too, showing that he felt the same way.

"Guys…" Yata looked up at them, realising only now their height differences, "I don't know what to say, I-"

"How about we just go back to the shopping centre and get something to drink?" Totsuka grinned, "we haven't been to HOMRA for a while – Izumo-san's probably thinking that we're dead or something."

"Sure," he replied slowly, still a bit dumbfounded.

"Oh, and," Totsuka handed to him a large plastic bag, "I picked this up for you while you were… getting your… underwear." He pointed to the shopping bags Yata was carrying, adorned with bright pink logos and floral designs, "I don't think you really want to be seen with those right now, do you?"

"Oh, thanks, Totsuka-sa-" his eyes widened and he instinctively darted behind Kamamoto. The larger man flinched at his sudden action and looked back at him in confusion.

"Yata-san, what are you do-"

"Shhh!"

The smaller stood on his tiptoes, peeking over one of Rikio's shoulders.

He was right – it was Fushimi. He had walked over to sit on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the square, alone. Some shopping was beside him, and he was calmly opening a sandwich to check the contents (probably to see that there were no vegetables, Yata supposed). The blue haired man hadn't noticed them, thank God, but there was a possibility he could –they weren't very far away. It wasn't like he didn't see him regularly anyway, but with all this shopping that Misaki was supposed to be wearing?

After taking a bite and chewing for a while, Fushimi put his late lunch down and swallowed, before crossing his legs absently and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

By now, Rikio and Tatara had seemed to work out who their friend was focused on. Kamamoto frowned when Yata reached for his own phone to turn it off, but grabbed it when it started ringing.

"Clumps…kun," Totsuka craned his neck to see as he read out the name.

"Shut up!" he waved his arms and snatched it back, checking to see if Fushimi had heard.

He hadn't – he still had the phone to his ear, a solemn look on his face.

Yata bit his lip. If he turned it off now, it would come up on Fushimi's phone as an ignored call. Which would have obvious results that evening.

He gritted his teeth, turning down the volume and waited anxiously for it to go to answering machine.

Aww, a sigh, Misaki-chan, can't you get to your phone again? Well, I'll meet you by the usual bus stop at half six this evening, alright? Ok…

Fushimi hung up and continued to eat his food, oblivious to the situation next to him.

"How does he know Misaki?" Totsuka asked, his voice a loud whisper.

"And what's more," Kamamoto added, "why are you meeting him later?"

Yata grumbled, looking intently at the floor while grabbing both their arms. He slung his shopping over his shoulder and, with his head down, tugged them back into the shopping centre.

"You have a boyfriend?" Kamamoto stared at him, eyes wide with a look not unlike horror on his face. Totsuka sat next to him, mouth hung open and noodles trailing down his jaw.

Yata nodded, taking a sip of his water. "Well, technically, Misaki does. Yata is currently single and staying that way."

"Who is it?" Totsuka blurted out. Though he was surprised, the blonde leaned forward eagerly.

Yata knew exactly what Rikio's reaction would be, and that was exactly why he had also tried to avoid this moment. But, here he was, at the back of HOMRA bar sharing a massive bowl of soba with the only two people who he trusted with his secret. Soft music was playing in the background, only to be mixed with the quiet buzz of his headphones that he couldn't be bothered to turn off. Kusanagi Izumo was behind his counter at the front, polishing wine glasses as per usual.

"Well…" he muttered, feeling a blush beginning to spread on his face, "it's…"

"Yes?" he leaned closer and Yata pulled his head back. He glanced towards Kamamoto, who had his arms crossed and was raising an eyebrow expectantly, a slight smirk on his face.

"It's Saruhiko…Fushimi."

They both choked louder the second time.

"Fushimi?" Rikio's voice echoed around the whole bar and Izumo, hearing his exclaimation out of context, gave him an odd look, "Yata-san, are you shitting me? Isn't that the dick that ditched HOMRA and shoves you around all the time? The one who was sitting on the fountain earlier?"

"Don't worry," Yata replied, "he's oblivious to the similarities. I make sure of that. He hates Yata, and loves Misaki. Simple."

"Don't treat this like it's a game!"

"I'm not!"

"You have to be careful where you're treading, Yata-chan," Totsuka interjected after finally regaining the ability to speak. "He might find out."

"I won't let him. I said I'll be fine," Yata insisted.

"But you're acting like it's nothing!" Rikio argued, "you can't just mess someone around like that. That voice message earlier… he might really…love…Misaki-chan."

The redhead's gaze immediately fell to the surface of the table, away from his friends. His teeth gritted. "Well, I might really love Clumps-kun," he half-growled, his face turning a deeper shade of red for more than one reason. Yata pushed back his chair and dropped his chopsticks before standing up. He grabbed his skateboard and found himself striding away from them, out of the bar and onto the street corner. Cars flew by in front of him and the late afternoon sun beat down on his back, not too hot, but still obvious. This night was going to be warm.

There was a few seconds hesitation before Yata hopped on his board. He was about to get going, but the sound of a door opening behind him made him falter despite knowing who it was.

"Yata-san, I didn't mean it like that!" Kamamoto called to him as he ran over, the golden chains and jewellery round his neck glinting in the orange light. A large hand came to rest on Yata's shoulder and he turned round to see the larger man right behind him, red-faced and out of breath. Totsuka was catching up, forcing some last strands of soba into his mouth.

"I…we just don't think it it's a good idea, Yata-san."

The unconvinced frown hadn't left his face, but it was slowly changing into one more of unhappiness.

"You two… don't know what it feels like."

"Think about it," Totsuka took a step closer to him, "what if he decided to… take things further with you? Think about it from his point of view. What would it feel like if Yata kissed Fushimi, instead of Misaki?"

"We can tell that you're genuinely in a relationship with him," Kamamoto added, "what if you got… pregnant or something?"

"Rikio-san, I don't even know if I can get pregnant. I was a guy before this curse, remember?"

"Yeah, but I'm just saying you don't want to ever be in a position where you could find out," the seriousness in his voice became increasingly evident as he spoke, "how far have you two… actually gone?"

"Kissing, and maybe touching, that stuff. All with clothes on, before you ask. Which means I haven-"

He let out a pained gasp and fell to his knees, arms wrapped around his stomach as the muscles clenched.

"Yata-chan!" Totsuka was beside him immediately, followed shortly by Kamamoto, "what's wrong? What's happening?"

"Now… it's happening… now," Yata forced out.

"What?" it took a few seconds for him to process the information, "O…oh! Rikio-san, we need to get him inside!"

"But this shouldn't be happening for another hour! And where will we take him?"

The blonde wrapped his arms under Yata's, gently pulling him up. Beads of sweat were trickling down his face, which had turned a burning red.

"It'll have to be HOMRA."

"Ah," Izumo looked up as they burst back through the bar's door, "I was just about to come running after you – Yata-san left his…" he trailed off, cigarette hanging limply from his mouth when he saw the smaller on Kamamoto's back. "What's wrong with Yata-san? He's-"

"Izumo-san," Totsuka quickly interrupted, rushing to the counter "Yata-cha…san's hurt. Have you got any place private we can take him?"

The bar's owner glanced worriedly at Yata when he groaned, before answering, "…there's Mikoto's apartment upstairs, he's out for the day on business, so I don't see why you ca-"

"Thanks! Let's go, Rikio-san," the youngest tugged on the larger man's arm, which was wrapped around Yata's knees. "No need to follow us, Izumo-san," the blonde called as he reached for a door labelled 'private', "we can deal with it."

It slammed shut.

"And don't call the hospital!"

The apartment was the same style as the bar downstairs – traditional English features with French accents on the tables and chairs. That must have been Izumo's doing.

Kamamoto set Yata down on one of the loveseats, and it was all the red-head could do not to cry out. He gritted his teeth, his toes curling as a wave of pain rolled through his body. Grunting, he shifted himself closer to Rikio, who was wiping his forehead for him with a damp towel.

The two blondes found themselves in the same position as they were that morning – kneeling down beside where he was lying, hovering over him helplessly. They tried to distract him by keeping him occupied with questions, but eventually it became too much for him and he tried his best to calmly ask them to be quiet while biting down on an old cushion.

"The ones in the evenings are worse, it seems," Totsuka observed solemnly, the only reaction to that being a small nod from a frowning Rikio and a quiet, forced, "no shit," from Yata.

"Guys?" the voice echoed from the other side of the door and everyone groaned (Yata for a different reason than the other two). Izumo had decided to follow them after all.

"Stay here and watch him," Totsuka got up and patted Kamamoto on the shoulder, "you've known for longer. I'll try and get Izumo –san away."

He hurried to the door, unlocking it and opening it only enough to stick his head out – Yata was, technically directly opposite Izumo with just a panel of wood in the way.

"You left this downstairs," the man said, holding up the plastic bag, "some of it had spilt out on the floor, and…"

"Oh, all that girl stuff?" Totsuka smiled, slowly pulling it from the other's grip, "it's Yata-san's mum's. She was busy and asked us to recycle it today."

"Really? It looked pretty new…"

"I'm sure."

"How's Yata-san?"

"He's fine. Don't worry. Oh – I think I hear a customer downstairs!" he was now attempting to close the door, grinning innocently as he called things like, "wouldn't want to keep them waiting! They might be wanting to buy some of the expensive wine – you'd better hurry, Izumo-san."

The lock finally clicked shut and Totsuka heard a sigh from the other side, and then some footsteps going down the stairs. He pressed his back against the door and sunk to the floor, looking over at his friends.

"Is Yata-chan ok?"

"I'm fine," the reply was quiet, "owww, that hurt…"

"Do you need help sitting up?" Kamamoto's voice was now much deeper in comparison.

"Yeah…ah… thanks, Rikio-san."

"Oh my God," Totsuka shot up, dropping the bag and rushing over,"Misaki-chan, there's blood all over your hands!"

She held them up, "it's just my nails, don't worry. They always catch the skin as they grow. Do you have that bowl of water?"

"Yeah," he handed it to her.

"See?" the water turned a faint pink as it washed off, "dried and healed already. I'm ok."

"Want us to leave you alone to get dressed, Misaki-chan?" Kamamoto had fetched the bag, "that dress… is for Fushimi, isn't it? We pieced it together… your… date… tonight."

She nodded slowly and took it from him before the two males stood up and headed to the kitchen.

"Sorry I'm a little late," Saruhiko's voice sounded behind her in the night air, and she turned to greet him with a smile on her face, "I'm glad you got my message – you didn't reply."

"Ah… I'm out of credit on my phone, but I just got some more… sorry, Clumps-kun."

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and sat down next to her at the bus stop, taking her hands in his and rubbing them a little.

"That's fine…" his voice faded when he caught sight of what she was wearing, "this dress, I've never seen you wear it before. Is it new?"

"I bought it today," she replied as he ran his fingers around one of the lace straps.

"It looks great on you," he breathed, and she blushed before he carried on, "I saw it on display in a shop window today, now that I remember... really pricey. Is that why you couldn't come to the zoo? You were buying this?"

Misaki nodded.

"The bus should be here in a few minutes," she said after a short silence, leaning into the crook of his neck, "I haven't been waiting long."

The aquarium was much busier than both of them had expected. They had waited outside in the queue for over half an hour. Not that they had minded, though. Saruhiko had shared his iPod with her and they slowly shuffled to the front, laughing quietly at jokes and both had half of a hot dog. He'd also insisted on paying for her entry ticket, as well as everything else she wanted to buy that evening, and Misaki had guessed it was because he now knew how much she had spent on a dress she had worn just for him.

"Oh God," Misaki jumped, looking down at the floor after they passed through the barriers, "the floor, Clumps-kun… it's glass. And right above the shark tank."

"Wha…? Woah," he instinctively grabbed onto her as one of the massive fish passed below them, its fin brushing the surface.

He jumped up and down a little to test it, flinching when she squeaked, "look how thick it is – we're fine. Let's just hurry up and get to the stairs."

The first room was full of a lot of fish she recognised and they went round to each one, snapping pictures through the glass before the tiny animals darted away from view. Every creature in this aquarium was endangered on one level or another, and the exhibits put that across strongly with talks from workers every so often.

After a few more minutes they reached a large crowd of people, and Misaki vaguely recorded that the majority of them were tourists, barging their way to the front to see a tank that was completely obscured by bodies.

She hadn't been to this place before, but she knew that Saruhiko had, "Clumps-kun, what are they all trying to see?"

"The octopus."

"An octopus? Wow…"

"Come on, let's try and get to the tank."

The glass was round and convex, and it occurred for a moment to her what the octopus saw through such an odd shape; humans must look so weird to it already…

"I can't see it!"

"Look at it from this angle, Misaki-chan," he gently tugged her to the side and lower down until she was almost under the tank. Saruhiko pointed, "there."

Tucked in the corner of the tank, the octopus sat, its tentacles curling lazily in the water. It didn't seem the slightest bit bothered about all the attention that it was getting, or, rather.

"He looks bored."

"Take a look at these ones over here, Misaki-chan," Saruhiko gently tapped her shoulder and guided her away from the octopus, covering her eyes with both his hands as they went. They seemed to be walking for a while and the noises of the tourists faded. She blinked, and suddenly pure white jellyfish were floating in a round tank centimetres away from her face. They were highlighted with a slightly purple hue as they bathed in ultraviolet light.

Almost unconsciously, she lifted her finger and followed with its tip their slow and aimless trail, watching closely as they shimmered and drifted through the water.

"Wow," she breathed, "they're beautiful, Clumps-kun." Misaki looked up only to realise that he wasn't taking notice of them at all. He was running his fingers through her hair and she locked eyes with him, his own lighting up when he saw her smile softly. Her breath hitched when his hand trailed down to cup her face and she responded by pressing herself against him, feeling the regular rise and fall of his chest. Saruhiko places his lips on the top her head and her whole body tingled with warmth when he breathed out softly and muttered into her hair.

"You're beautiful, Misaki-chan."

His words were followed by an easy kiss and she smiled into it when she felt him do the same. As per usual, he was especially gentle with her, wrapping his arms around the top half of her body, holding her like she was a delicate china doll. In the midst of it all, her thoughts gradually echoed beck to times she spent as Yata, a different person, built strongly with more muscle. Fushimi would never hold him like this.

"He might find out."

"I won't let him. I said I'll be fine."

His tongue brushed against her lips, asking for entrance into her mouth. She automatically accepted. One of his hands became entangled in her hair, keeping her close to him.

"What if he decided to… take things further with you?"

She knew he hadn't done anything wrong; everything they were doing, they had done before. But something was pulling her back, and, at first, she mentally shrugged it off and slid her hands onto his shoulders, trying her best to enjoy the feeling of his mouth locked on hers. A few seconds later, his arms began to make their way downwards, gliding delicately and expertly down her back until they…

"What would it feel like if Yata kissed Fushimi?"

Misaki pulled away. She had to stop.

Saruhiko jerked, "Misaki-chan? Was I?"

"No. I just…"

"It's fine. I'll only do what you're comfortable with."

"it's ok, Clumps-kun. That wasn't what I meant."

"Then why did you want to stop?" his voice sounded confused.

Desperately, she tried to think of an excuse to give him. A glance at a clock told her that the aquarium wasn't closing for another hour, there was no one nearby watching and she certainly couldn't say she was embarrassed because the jellyfish were watching. Saruhiko was staring at her intently, but thankfully there was no scorn in his expression. Just a fair amount of worry.

She would have so say something.

Misaki hesitated once more, then spoke, "Clumps-kun, I-"

"Fushimi Saruhiko," a low voice sounded through the exhibit, "it's a surprise to see you here."

A man with hair she could only describe as 'large' appeared round a corner. It was gelled back in spikes at all angles save for two strands that hung down in front of his face. Misaki had always thought that it resembled somewhat a mane. A very dark fuchsia mane, at least. His hands were in his leather jacket's pockets and various chains accented his dark jeans. They glinted in the lights around the room along with his earring – drawing your attention away from the cigarette he was smoking. His smoke drifted lazily around him and his demeanour was certainly relaxed, yet, surprisingly, threatening. This man, standing just a few feet away from her and Saruhiko, was someone Yata was very familiar with. That man – the 'sleeping lion', leader of the street gang he, Kamamoto and Totsuka had a place in; the 'Red King', in charge of HOMRA.

"Suoh Mikoto," Misaki heard Saruhiko say beside her, "the same goes for me to you. What would a 'great man' like you be doing at an aquarium?"

"I'm meeting someone," his jagged voice answered simply.

Saruhiko bent down to whisper in her ear, "he's my old boss."

Misaki was almost tempted to reply, telling him that she knew all about and that 'boss' wasn't really the right word. She knew his reasons for lying, never telling her about his days in HOMRA. They had been shared with Yata (albeit distantly and they barely spoke for a number of reasons). She never knew why he gradually became distant from the rest of them,though, and, eventually, left. She wanted to let him know how, unlike Fushimi, was probably expecting, his 'old boss' had actually given a damn about his departure.

Instead, she just nodded and acted oblivious and unknowing. She was Misaki. She knew nothing.

"Is he the one that fired you, then?" she whispered back.

Saruhiko nodded.

Mikoto was coming closer. Not in a threatening way, but his sheer height and the way he walked made Misaki instinctively take a step back. Saruhiko's right arm was now firmly around her shoulders, protecting her.

After starting at him for a while, the 'king's' eyes eventually fell on her, and it was making her increasingly self-conscious. Kamamoto had repeatedly pointed out how much Misaki looked like her male counterpart. When Yata had questioned why Fushimi hadn't noticed, Totsuka offered to put it down to his being 'blinded by love'. Which, minus the dramatic part, sort of made sense. Having a lover whose gender changed about every twelve hours (depending on the seasons) wasn't exactly a regular thing in society.

Suoh nodded to Saruhiko. "Are you with this guy?"

"Y-yes."

He regarded her through narrowed eyes and for a second she thought he had seen Yata in her face, but instead he asked another question.

"What's your name?"

"Misaki."

"Misaki what?"

She swallowed. She couldn't say Yata – even Saruhiko didn't know her last name (although he'd never mentioned it).

Both males were staring at her intently, and it was obvious that the one she loved was also curious as to the answer of that question. But the look on his face was also still worried, as if he could sense her awkwardness.

"Not telling."

She didn't have to answer if she didn't want to. She'd put more time into making a fake one later to give to Saruhiko.

Mikoto seemed slightly surprised at her remark, but still not very bothered. He just grunted and said something in a mumble that she couldn't hear, but Saruhiko was able to pick up on. He nodded as the 'king' walked off, cigarette smoke in his wake.

"Let's go home, Misaki-chan," he sighed, his hand snaking into hers.

All done! See you lot soon~