*surfs in on a wave*

Ahahahah just joking I can't even surf

So, how late is this? Idk, I lose track of time with this and my other fic. My main two followers of LT are my gorgeous friends Kat and Alex, so I talk to them about what happens anyway, and it's like I've already posted the chapters? Eh, well it looks like I didn't, so this is awkward.

Well, it's here now.

Call Me Tom: I didn't really think of a playlist when writing... but it was the usual rounds of Kagamine Len, Homestuck soundtrack and SHINee playing while I was writing. Interpret how you will~ I'm thinking of posting a little bonus chapter of Rikio and Tatara's escapades during that bar scene... and don't worry about the short review! :0

Windschild8178: It's very much Ok to be a critical reader! I don't mind at all, and I love what advice you've given. I'm going back and adding dates to each flashback and 'current' scene (partly for my own reference as well) to help, but, for the time being, I'll just say that the flashbacks are almost all in order - save for a couple. All regular writing is in chronological order.

jasdevi's secret sissy: :) *I love jasdevi so much omg*

ClassicDesires: You are wonderful, darling 3

Living Twice, Chapter Six

Even though it's not much, I dedicate this chapter to my Great Aunt Pam; her funeral was today. She inspired me to write from a very young age, and gave me tips I take to heart and make sure I use to this day. I miss you already.

The next thing she knew, Misaki was on a poorly-padded and metal framed chair that hugged the wall, and Saruhiko was pratically on her lap as he set his phone to full brightness. It didn't work very well as a makeshift torch compared to the lights on the dancefloor (except that was hardly the place to be examining wounds).

She winced when she saw his expression; it hinted to her that there was probably a large amount of blood on her face. Trying not to panic, her boyfriend attempted to dab gently at the gash to clean it as best he could.

"You must have felt something, Misaki-chan" he sounded exasperated with worry, "when do you think you did it?"

"I must have caught it on something on the way in..." it was the easiest way to lie - act like she was just as confused and concerned as he was.

Saruhiko growled in what was probably helplessness. "There's barely any light here, so let me just ca-"

"Fushimi-kun," a deep voice sounded from somewhere in front of her, but her view happened to be blocked by a certain lover's face. That was, until it vanished to turn round and look and the person who had approached.

"Oh, captain," he sounded relived (despite the drop of emotion in talking to authority).

"I saw you and your young lady leave the dance floor rather quickly... is there any problem?"

"Misaki-chan cut her face on something. I can't tell how much blood there is, but... I think it's a little more than just a scrape."

There was silence (apart from the loud and never-ending music) and the red head desperately wanted to see what was happening between him and this person that didn't sound like a stranger. A few seconds later, her wish was granted and Saruhiko was pulled aside.

She was now face to face with a taller, older man. Frameless glasses sat infront of his dark eyes and his skin was terribly pale, even in this light. His face held an unreadable emotion, and Misaki felt uncomfortable about the way his jaw was set. She had to put in more than a little effort not to sqeak with surprise.

Of course she knew him. Munakata Reisi, captain of the city's police and special crime investigation force, Scepter 4. HOMRA's rival, they were; constantly looking for ways to get Mikoto's gang arrested even though they had a lack of solid evidence. One of Yata's jobs was to make sure that they didn't get that evidence.

So... Saruhiko... worked for these guys now?

What was she supposed to think of that?

"The wound is not minor," the captain observed without a change in tone, "but it is not major enough that it cannot be dealt with by ourselves. Fushimi-kun, please find an fetch Awashima-kun. She has a first-aid kit with her."

"...Yes, sir," he disappeared, and Reisi did not take his eyes of Misaki even for a second.

When he was out of (the very small) earshot, Scepter 4's leader spoke again.

"I won't waste time on this. A strain recently came into our possesion under custody."

Misaki narrowed her eyes, confused, "ummm, ok?"

"During her questioning, she informed myself and Awashima Seri-kun of the actions she is to be held accounted for against various persons."

"...Wait - are yo-"

"Including you, Yata Misaki-kun."

Her reply to something like this was always going to be a well-practised 'what do you mean?', but something about the unexpected and particularly overwhelming timing of it betrayed her through her widened eyes.

"Heh," he gave something that sounded like a laugh, "I though so." Reisi was smirking a little from being correct. "I am fully aware of your situation. Well, apart from some smaller details. And, no, Fushimi-kun is not; his branch of Scepter 4 is rarely involved in Awashima-kun's strain department unless there is a large mission. I oversee all branches, and that is how I know."

The realisation and dread that she knew she could do nothing about this, and she stubbornly refused to take her gaze away from him, determined to turn the conversation because she knew that this man was holding all the cards and could shatter her relationship with Saruhiko just by uttering a few words.

"...So yeah, I am. What are you going to do about it?"

"Naturally, our science department is very interested about your case despite the anonymity of it."

"Anonymity?"

"I made the desicion to keep your identity out from the interview report we released to other branches, mostly just on the grounds of Fushimi-kun. Everyone in Scepter 4 is aware of your affilation with HOMRA, and also the rivalry held between him and your male self. Therefore, it is in our best interest not to tell him the true identity of his lover, so be it that we do not lose one of our strongest fighters. You know how mentally unstable he is, do you not?"

She slowly shook her head no, but the captain didn't give her a chance to think further about anything before he carried on.

"We cannot predict how he will take your news, so we have also gone to lengths to keep any information about the strain we interviewed from him, as well."

"You said before... what's a strain?"

He adjusted his glasses, "that is classified."

"But if this 'strain' is a reason behind my curse, I have a fucking right to know! Ow," she winced as pain shot through her cheek, "shit, that hurt."

Reisi raised an eyebrow (probably from her language use, and making a mental note that her personality when not around Fushimi was exactly the same) and dodged her statement with a question.

"We did want to conduct further research before actually beginning to track you down, but I discovered that Fushimi-kun wanted to take you out somewhere. Awashima and myself seized the opportunity to have you here and finally meet you, but the injury you have on your face is... unplanned. How did you get it?"

"...Fushimi punched Yata. Earlier today."

"What do mean 'Yata'? Yourself?"

"Well, yeah, I mean me. Like, I'm 'Misaki' right now."

"...I see." It was then that he finally turned away and Misaki visibly relaxed, breath she was holding in escaping in a pained sigh.

"Fushimi-kun is returning; you can be assured that I'll speak to you like this again soon, Misaki-kun."

"But... ho-?"

"Sir," a feminine voice interrupted them, and Misaki looked up to see a saluting woman standing next to Saruhiko. She was a little breathless, yet composed, but also dressed more for the venue than the two males were. But, as Scepter 4's second-in-command, even in a place like this, the red head had expected her to be wearing a dress that was less revealing. Her lips were a shade of red so bright they could only be achieved by artificial means, and her eyelashings were too long to be real.

"I hope that Fushimi-kun has explained why we needed the first-aid kit," Reisi adjusted his glasses again, "and I've already assured Misaki-kun that she doesn't need to go to hospital for her wound."

"Misaki-kun?" surprise she couldn't help flashed across Awashima's expression, but Saruhiko thankfully didn't catch it. The blonde woman opened the box she had been carrying and knelt down in front of her. Her hands fumbled for a second until she found what she wanted, and Misaki wasn't sure what to do when she noticed how Awashima was looking hard at her face. Probably trying to see past the female features and at the 'real' Yata; the Yata that she had given chase to down the street for arguing with some other Scepter 4 men.

This was uncomfortable and weird and disturbing because Misaki was a part of Yata that shouldn't ever being involved with this woman and no she didn't like this.

Please, just leave me alone to be with Clumps-kun.

"So you're..." if Misaki had only barely heard it, the others wouldn't have at all. As if it wasn't obvious that Awashima had worked it out almost instantly.

And, after allowing a moment of obvious curiosity of staring and frowning on Misaki could see, her entire aura shifted back to how the red head had wished it had been from the start - composed and completely oblivious.

"The captain is right," was what she eventually came out with, "I can clean it up here."

"That's great! Thank you so much for helping me," Misaki saw her flinch at her voice.

"...Not a problem."

"How are you feeling now, Misaki-chan?" Saruhiko got close to her as soon as Scepter 4's lieutenant finished and stood up. Her held her face and ran his thumbs down her cheeks as he looked with worry at the bandaged gash. He was being very careful not to touch it.

"I'm fine," she wanted very much to reply softly, but that was something that the music wouldn't allow.

"Do you want to go home?" he asked.

"No," she answered firmly, "we've only had a little while here; it's not fair on you, Clumps-kun."

"Well, I'm not taking you on the dance floor again," he nodded goodbye to his higher-ups and the red head only vaguely processed that Awashima and Reisi were leaving, "we don't want it opening up again. Here - do you want something to... what?"

"What?"

He frowned, "looks like I must have left our drinks somewhere. Wait here, Misaki-chan; I'll go and look for them."

Saruhiko kissed her lips before he pulled away, and she watched him fade into the crowd. It wasn't long until she completely lost sight of him; instead, she found herself looking at a flamboyant and bright coloured poncho.

Its wearer caught sight of her, grinning sheepishly as he tried to turn away and run, but she glowered at him and signaled for him to approach.

"Totsuka-san," she found it difficult to keep her voice level (was it from pain or annoyance?), "what are you doing here?"

"...Oh... you see, Rikio-san and I were super worried about you, so we though we'd come to make sure you were ok..."

"Rikio-san, too? You guys didn't think I could deal with a date with Clumps-kun like I have been for two years? Just because I hurt my face? Ugh. Never mind about that. I have to tell you something else because there's not much time before he gets back... you saw me with Scepter 4, right?"

"Yeah, I did! What was with tha-"

"Clumps-kun works for them now; they're head of security at this club and everything!"

"You're telling me then that Fushimi ditched HOMRA for them?"

"I know! But that's no the point - look - Totsuka-san, Reisi and Awashima know. Like, about me and my curse."

"What? Do they know how it happened?"

"Reisi was all up in my face the whole time. Awashima was freaking out but playing it cool... and they didn't really say much in detail. But that captain did mention something about a 'strain'."

"Like... the things you drain pasta with?"

"Um, no, I don't think so. They did say though that they'll find me again and I think they might want to help me, and I'm not too sure how I feel about that."

"In what way?"

"Loads of ways. The fact that it's Scepter 4 for a start, and then there's how Reisi mentioned how their fucking science department is curious - I don't want them poking and prodding me, do I? And what if I do end up getting rid of this curse? We still have the problem of Clumps-kun."

Totsuka seemed to have a problem following up a reply to that, and he fiddled with his hat absently.

"Don't worry too much," he replied eventually, beaming, "we'll find a way to sort this awful mess out - six years for you is enough, don't you think? Oh - I better leave," he added suddenly, "Fushimi's coming back and we're not supposed to know each other, remember?"

Misaki smiled at him before he left, and it sent pain shooting through her cheek.

"Don't you find it even just a teeny, tiny bit odd that Fushimi made no connection whatsoever with the cut on your face?" Totsuka was frowning as he opened a can of cola. It hissed, almost like it was emphasizing the point.

Yata shrugged and bit into his sandwich, "not really," he said through a mouthful, "although I can understand completely where you're coming from."

"Same here," Kamamoto was picking at a packet of crisps, and the red head made a casual observation of how much slimmer the blonde man was getting. Summer would be in full swing soon. "But we have already established that Fushimi realises no connection between Misaki-chan and Yata-san, although that might not be true. He could have his suspicions and just be managing to keep any sign of it away from Misaki-chan."

"Well if he does, he's doing a really good job of pretending he doesn't. And that's kind of a far fetched idea any way; he wouldn't have punched Yata-san if he had had an idea as to who he really is," Totsuka added.

"So we've come to the conclusion then that the only thing between me and relationship hell is Reisi keeping his fucking mouth shut," Yata grumbled, "and there isn't a thing we can do about it either way. No matter how different I make Misaki act from Yata, it's ultimately up to him and Awashima if Clumps-kun learns about me or not."

"But you told us what he said to you," the youngest of the three made an attempt to comfort him, "Scepter 4 want to keep Fushimi mentally stable, and the only way that can do that is if they don't tell him, right? So you don't have to worry!"

"Yeah, but what did he even mean by that? Does that mean then that could be hiding something important from Misaki, then? That's beyond unfair..."

Kamamoto couldn't help grinning, "Yata-san, hypocritical, much?"

"Oh, you know what I mean!"

"I'm sure he'd tell you if it was something that could affect you directly; as in, whatever it is hasn't made a difference, so I wouldn't think much of it," the larger blonde replied.

"I guess you're making sense... Totsuka-san, pass me a sausage roll."

"Here."

The red head swallowed a bit and sighed, "I think I'm worrying about this too much."

"You have every right to worry," Kamamoto's voice became even more serious, "the main point now, Yata-san, is whether you think breaking your curse or keeping your identity safe is more important."

He opened his mouth to reply, but instead doubled over and almost rolled completely off of the sofa.

"Oh!" Tostuka glanced first out the window, and then at the clock on the wall, "it's sunset! Shit, Yata-san, sorry."

"It's not like you could have... done anything to stop it... anyway."

"Just lie down," somehow, Kamamoto had already managed to make it to the kitchen and back, bringing a damp tea towel with him.

He could only respond with a pained gasp as he rested his head on the cushion. Tears formed in his eyes and his fingers latched on to the cloth of the loveseat.

"Guys... I just hate this so fucking much," his teeth were gritted.

"It's alright," Totsuka gently rubbed his closest arm, "it'll be over really soon. Then, you can go to the festival with Fushimi! We have your Yukata out in the hallway hanging up!"

"ok, ok ok," was all he he could put together in his brain to say, over and over again. His eyes had closed and probably wouldn't open again until after his change had finished.

Once again, as per usual, Totsuka and Kamamoto could do nothing. They just had to sit and wait with him with words of comfort, only able to imagine how extreme the pain must be.

"What does it matter to me?" Fushimi's eyebrows were raised despite his obvious uninterest, "he's just a new member, it makes no difference."

For a few seconds, Yata was taken aback, wondering how he could look at his face and not see the girl he had had dinner with only a few days before. Perhaps the difference was more than just a little subtle... it might be because Yata always saw his face as his face no matter what sex he was that he always noticed.

He bit his lip, forcing himself to avoid eye contact. Fushimi had only seen Misaki before, but still he was certain that it was possible to make a connection.

Appearances were hard to change, but he supposed he could just try to avoid him, or act more blunt around him, maybe... if his acting skills were decent enough then it was possible. He couldn't afford to ruin it before they'd even had their first da-

...Was he just about to think 'date'?

He flushed and hoped it wasn't noticable.

Oh, God, it really was a date, wasn't it?

"Uh... Yata-san?" Totsuka tapped him lightly on the shoulder, "you ok?"

"Fine," he replied as he narrowed his eyes and forced out a scowl, "but I don't see what this guy's problem is with me."

"Oh, just ignore him; he's like that to everybody."

"Tch, whatever; welcome to HOMRA and all that," Fushimi grumbled and returned to his seat, hands shoved in his hoodie's pockets.

Thankfully, it had stopped raining before the festival had begun.

Misaki smiled a small smile as she stepped outside, breathing in the mingling scents of freshness from the wet ground and the settling-in evening. The sun had almost finished drawing down behind the trees and the long shadow her body cast on the driveway was going to vanish soon. At current, the neighbourhood was quiet, save for the muffled sounds of the television coming through the open window of the next house and the distant rumble of the motorway across the park and farm beyond. Some birds of a species the red head didn't quite remember sung to each other from a tree nearby, and she clung to her purse with a loose grip as Kamamoto opened the door to his car for her.

"We'll drive you as close to your usual bus stop as we can without being seen with you," Rikio told her, putting on his seat belt with a click and starting up the engine. Totsuka had pounced on the controls for the radio already and was flicking through the channels at an irritatingly fast speed to find the one he wanted.

"Thanks a lot," unfortunately, Misaki didn't share the two blondes' music taste, but she had her iPod as a substitute to listen to something she liked. Her songs were on shuffle before the car had even turned onto the road.

The journey wouldn't have been much longer if she had walked; there were lots of small and irritating traffic jams in the worst possible places (which meant the engine was off and the earphones combined with her music no longer worked as an effective tool to block out the monstrosity coming through the Subaru's speakers).

They dropped her off on the next street over from where she would meet Saruhiko, and, as she got out the car and fiddled for the last time with the high ponytail in her hair, Totsuka slipped some money into her hand.

"'It's from Rikio-san and I," he grinned and said softly, "think of it as an early birthday present, ok, Misaki-chan?"

She hugged him and replied with a quiet 'thank you' before waving goodbye as he got back in the car. Kamamoto steered the wheel to the right and accelerated. The sounds the car made drew into the distance, and, just like that, they were gone.

Misaki turned the corner and walked down, her mind surprisingly blank about such a surprising evening.

He had her in her arms before she even realised he was in front of her.

Saruhiko buried his face in her hair in a familiar way that somehow didn't feel familiar and held her tight, gathering clumps of her yukata in his hands as he pulled themselves closer together.

"Misaki," he breathed out her name, and she was about to reply in the same fashion when she noticed how he dropped the honorific.

"Clumps-kun...?" the red head gently pushed his head away, remaining in his arms but now she could see his face. Through the strangely numb sounds of bustling cars and lorries, she was able to make out a low and rough choking noise.

Fushimi Saruhiko was crying.

Misaki squeezed his hand, feeling how sweaty his palms were; he must have been waiting all this time with his fists clenched, and she ran her fingertips over small wounds where his nails had broken into the skin.

She took a deep breath. "What's wrong?"

His breaths were different; uneven and shaking, and the volume of it altered itself drastically in the space of just a few seconds. "My... it's my step-dad... he... I," his voice caught and he gave a weak cough.

"Shhh," she let him rest his head on her right shoulder and put her free hand on the back of his neck. He wasn't fidgeting. His clothes looked like they were put together perfectly but lacked something.

"It's ok; you don't have to say everything all at once."

All little details.

Saruhiko drew in a breath of even air (it was all she could seem to hear at the moment, their breathing); crisp and sharp. He squeezed her a little tighter for a second.

"He... a signal at a level crossing wasn't working properly... and his car, it spun and spun and flipped and oh my God Misaki why did this have to happen he was the most wonderful father in the world and now he can't even meet you and see how wonderful you are because this is just so sudden just fuck I can barely think straight fuck this has probably ruined the evening already and everything so I just-"

"Calm down, please, Saruhiko. It'll be alright."

"But it's so sudden-"

"Things like this are always sudden."

Silence fell and she began to notice a light rain; looking up, she saw a thin cloud that must not have been heavy enough to open up earlier. It gave a misty quality to the air and everything around them a hazy feel, cooling their surroundings right down. It wasn't strong enough to push them under the shelter, but they decided to anyway.

Saruhiko sat down and pulled her onto his lap, absently sliding his hands through the gaps between her fingers.

Misaki wasn't at all sure what to say, afraid she'll make it worse. If she said nothing, it would sound like she didn't really care, and the same would probably happen if she suggested for them only to focus on the festival. Maybe she could ask him questions about it, but what if that just made him feel worse?

She felt his breath on her neck.

"What do you want to talk about while we wait?" she whispered her question.

When Saruhiko didn't reply she felt herself tense up and draw in a breath a little too sharply, but he calmed her again with a kiss on her hairline.

"...How annoying the people are at work."

They both laughed, but one was a little louder than the other.

It was another seven and a half minutes before the bus came this time.

Yay I'm done woooooo