Genre: Humor/Romance
Rating: PG-13 for violence, some language, and shonen ai/sap

Disclaimer: Flame of Recca and all characters involved do not belong to me. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: AU. When a young street-rat named Mikagami is kidnapped and brought to the palace, will he accept Lord Kurei’s request to act as Recca’s babysitter, or is Recca more than he can handle?

Pairings: Fuuko/Domon, eventual Mikagami/Recca

Symbols: flashback

“” talking

‘’ thinking

Twilight fell greedily across the city, pulling each building and courtyard under its spell of darkness, covering the land in shadow. Night’s coming scattered the citizens into their tiny houses and apartments; candlelit windows the only betrayal of their presence in the otherwise complete darkness. With the twilight, silence wove its way through the streets and alleyways, rippling like the wind through tree branches and quieting even the stray cats digging desperately through garbage cans.

One of the cats, a large orange tabby with one eye, paused in his search for food and listened. Then he let out a low yowl and ducked into the shadows of the building behind him. Moments later, light footsteps could be heard echoing against the alley walls. A young man in ragged clothing emerged, dirty silver hair pulled back in a high ponytail. In his arms, he clutched a lumpy sack, his fingers entwined in the burlap so he couldn’t lose it even if it should slip from his grasp for a moment. His blue eyes were tired but alert, and he scanned the alley continuously as he made his way into the courtyard ahead.

As he reached the opening, a girl slightly shorter than him rushed from the shadows and flung her arms around his waist. Her haggard, careworn face was nonetheless beautiful, as was the smile she gave him.

“Thank goodness you’re all right,” she murmured, ignoring the sack in his hands.

The young man sighed. “You’re supposed to wait until I call you. What if I had been someone else?”

She gave a tiny chuckle. “Don’t be ridiculous, Tokiya. I could recognize your footsteps anywhere. What to you expect of your big sister?”

Tokiya shook his head. “Still, Mifuyu – I wish you’d wait next time.”

She waved him off. “What does it matter? I’m just so glad you’re all right.”

Tokiya huffed. “You don’t have to get so worked up. I’ve been thieving for years, and nothing’s ever happened. Speaking of which...” He turned and drew a small lump of food from his sack. “Here. This is what you needed, right? Vegetables?”

Mifuyu nodded, then bit her lip as she took the food from her brother. “I’m so sorry to put you in extra danger for a few vegetables. I’m not-”

Tokiya stopped her with a rare and gentle smile. “You are worth it. Who would I have if I lost you?” His words brought another pretty smile to his sister’s lips, and she turned to sit on the steps of a nearby store. Hesitantly, she took a bite of the radish, wrinkling her nose a little.

“I hate vegetables,” she muttered, but continued eating ravenously. No food was ever wasted for the two street rats. Tokiya pulled his own radish from the bag and ate it dutifully. He, also, hated vegetables, but a local healer had claimed it was the only way to rid Mifuyu of the terrible disease she’d contracted a few weeks ago. The healer had also warned Tokiya against contracting the disease himself.

Mifuyu had just finished her radish and reached for a second one when the unmistakable sound of approaching feet came from a nearby street. Both Tokiya and Mifuyu froze, then bolted for the nearest alley. Just as they reached it, a knife imbedded itself in the wall by Mifuyu’s head. She froze, and Tokiya turned to see a large gang standing at the other side of the courtyard.

There were about eight of them – not so many, but rather large for a gang in this city. Recently, the lord had begun rounding up the gangs and putting them into labor camps. This gang had managed to survive with all of its members still standing, thanks to its size and violence. Tokiya gritted his teeth. If it was a fight they wanted, it would not be easy for him.

“Evening, street scum,” one of the gang members called across the courtyard. “What’s in that lovely sack you’re carrying?” Tokiya started, then inched one step closer to Mifuyu, who was still facing the alley.

“Mifuyu, run,” he whispered. “Take the radishes and get out of here.” He could hear more than see her shock.

“Tokiya!”

“Just do it.”

“I am not leaving my baby brother here to fight alone. Let’s just give them the radishes...”

“I’m 17, Mifuyu – I’m not a child anymore. Look – I’m not planning on getting killed, but you need those radishes, and they won’t get them while I’m still standing. I’ll meet you back home as soon as I can get away, all right?”

Mifuyu gave a strangled sob, knowing the odds were strongly against him. Tokiya closed his eyes, then they snapped open and he pushed her hard down the alley. “GO!” he yelled, turning back to the enraged gang and pulling a dagger from the folds of his ragged clothing.

He hardly had the weapon in his hand before they were on him. Two came at once from either side, but they had underestimated him. Tokiya threw himself backwards and the gang members crashed into each other, falling helplessly in a pile on the cobblestone street. A quick dagger slash insured him against their getting up again – at least for this fight. The other six members watched in anger as their companions hit the ground.

With a cry of rage, one of the ruffians launched himself at Tokiya, kicking him hard in the stomach and knocking the dagger from his surprised fingers. Tokiya hit the wall behind him with a grunt of pain, then dodged sideways to avoid the man’s fist. He snatched the knife from his opponent’s belt and shoved it into his stomach, jumping nimbly sideways to escape the blood that spattered his arms and legs, but mostly hit the wall. The thug slid down the wall and crumpled at the bottom.

The remaining five members of the gang looked at Tokiya in shock. Then the tallest one, clearly the leader, turned to the man on his left. “You,” he ordered. “Get the girl.” Tokiya’s eyes widened. He sprinted to the alley entrance, grabbing his fallen dagger on the way, and positioned himself in front of it. He kept his features calm, but internally he knew the fight was going to be a lot harder if he had to stay in one place.

With a nod, the brute and one of his companions headed for Tokiya, weapons drawn. Tokiya took the first one down without much trouble – three quick jabs to the chest and he was as good as dead – but the second surprised him. Tokiya felt his enemy’s blade cut through the delicate skin of his shoulder and fell to his knees, on hand clutching the wound. His opponent chuckled, raising his scythe-like knife for a final strike. Tokiya was quicker though, twisting his lithe body sideways to avoid the blow and simultaneously shoving his dagger up through the folds of the man’s clothing and into his thigh. His enemy screamed in pain, dropping to his knees and thrashing from side to side.

Tokiya barely saw the next thug coming before it was punching his face with all the might of street-hardened fists. More than anything, Tokiya wanted to just lay down and die, but the thought of Mifuyu rekindled enough anger and desperation that he reached out a hand and caught the man’s arm. With a quick twist, he’d wrenched it from its socket – a move Mifuyu herself had taught him. The gang member went down in a pile of flailing limbs, and Tokiya focused his pained gaze on the last opponent, facing him from across the courtyard.

The last member was a new recruit – he could tell by the way the boy was shaking in his torn boots. With a small cry, the thug turned on heel and ran like a mere child; Tokiya could tell he’d never seen gang warfare before.

With another moan of pain, Tokiya brought himself to his feet and staggered into the center of the courtyard. He glanced around himself, then frowned. His mind was going fuzzy, but he could’ve sworn there were eight gang members. Two in a self-induced heap, one bleeding by the wall, three in the alley entrance, one had run away... where was the last one?

A rushing noise behind him caused Tokiya to turn as fast as he could. His eyes grew wide as he stared at the gang leader, 15 feet above him and coming down with dagger raised. Tokiya tried to move, but his feet would no longer obey him. He closed his icy blue eyes, preparing for the immeasurable pain heading his way.

A cry of pain and the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the cobblestones caused Tokiya to open his eyes again. Then he took one step backward in shock. There in front of him was a troop of twenty royal horsemen, each with a sharp spear in hand and a dagger on their belt. The leader, a man with long flowing blue hair, rode his horse to a few steps in front of Tokiya, next to the prostrate and bleeding body of the gang member. He looked at Tokiya for a moment, then at the carnage in the courtyard. Finally he looked back to the street-rat, who was staring at him with tired determination.

“You there,” he addressed Tokiya. “Is all this your doing?” He gestured vaguely at the fallen gang. Tokiya’s eyes narrowed.

“What’s it to you?” he snarled, dagger raised in front of him. The man blinked, then shook his head condescendingly.

“Take him to the palace,” he instructed some of his subordinates, who nodded dutifully and dismounted. Tokiya staggered backwards until he hit a wall, keeping the dagger before him. The men stopped just short of him.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” one tried, hands raised harmlessly. Tokiya’s pretty eyes became narrow slits.

“Like hell you’re not,” he grimaced. Then he lunged at the guards, dagger extended. They dodged him easily, and Tokiya hit the street exhaustedly. He felt the guards lifting him onto what must have been a horse, then one climbed on behind him. The horse began to move, and Tokiya felt consciousness slipping away from him.

‘Mifuyu...’ He tried to speak, but felt the blackness of the night overcoming him at last.

It was a sharp jab of pain in his left shoulder that finally prompted Tokiya to open his weary eyes. His first groggy glance only registered a great expanse of white surrounding him, and he idly wondered whether he’d died and ascended into the clouds. The next moment, this thought was banished by the throbbing of his slashed shoulder – Tokiya was sure that there was no such agony in paradise.

With a great deal of effort, he pulled himself into a sitting position and fell back against the headboard of the giant bed he was lying in. He took another look around, and was alarmed by the sheer quantity of silk surrounding him. Silk curtains around the bed melted into the blanket covering him – the material was unfamiliar, but it was rich and soft under his questing fingers. There were more pillows behind him than Tokiya would have known what to do with, and he struggled to free himself from their downy depths – largely unsuccessfully. Everything beyond the bed’s curtains was milky and opaque, and helped very little with trying to figure out where he was.

Experimentally, he rolled his injured shoulder, and winced at the results. Casting a glance at it, he realized it had been cleaned and bandaged – he also found himself in a loose robe that he had certainly never seen before. The thought of someone being close enough to dress him while he was unconscious made Tokiya anxious, and he sat up a little straighter, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder.

A sudden rustling of the curtains startled him. Then the man Tokiya remembered as the leader of the royal horsemen poked his head through and smiled at the young man. “So, you’re finally awake,” he commented, drawing the curtains farther apart. The bright sunlight that came streaming in bothered Tokiya’s eyes, and he squinted against the painful onslaught.

“Where am I?” he asked, trying to sound confident and dangerous despite the fact that he was literally lost in this ridiculous bed. The man gave a cynical smile.

“At present, in the guest chambers of the lesser palace.” Tokiya started, then focused his glare on the man’s face.

“Why?” The man rolled his eyes.

“Because you were asleep, and there wasn’t anywhere else to put you. Nice to know this is what we get for our kindness.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Tokiya snarled, and the man shook a finger at him.

“No, you didn’t. And we wouldn’t have bothered, mind you, if it weren’t for Lord Kurei.”

The name of the regional governing lord meant something to even a street-rat like Tokiya, and he stilled on the large bed. “Lord Kurei?” he echoed, surprised. “What does he want with me?”

The man shrugged. “Lord Kurei didn’t feel I needed to know the extent of his designs – he just told me to go pick up the first imposing-looking gutter brat I could find.” He gave Tokiya a little smile. Tokiya did not return it, choosing to scowl at the offhanded insult instead. “My troop and I were just making our traditional rounds when we heard all the commotion coming from your courtyard. So if you want to blame somebody, blame your dead pals.”

Tokiya frowned. “They weren’t my companions. They were the largest gang in the east part of the city.” The man started.

“A gang? Really? Oh, excellent. Lord Kurei will be even more pleased with you, then.” He gave Tokiya a small consolation grin. “Since we’re going to be colleagues soon enough, I suppose I ought to introduce myself. I am General Raiha. I am the leader of Lord Kurei’s army.”

“I’ve heard of you,” Tokiya spat out. “You’re the one in charge of rounding up civilians for the labor camps.” General Raiha shrugged.

“Think of me what you like. I can’t say I actually care about your opinion. But if you’re awake, I need to take you to see Lord Kurei now.”

Tokiya glared at General Raiha with all his might. “You can tell Lord Kurei that I don’t want anything to do with him, and that I will not come see him whenever he wishes.” Raiha raised an eyebrow at this.

“You know of Lord Kurei’s power and reputation, and you still wish to defy him?” Tokiya hesitated. Lord Kurei was known for his mercilessness toward those who crossed him, subjects and enemies alike. He hated this whole situation, but it was safer not to make an immediate enemy out of the most dangerous man in the province. Raiha guessed Tokiya’s train of thought and nodded to him. “Good. In that case, let’s get moving.”

Tokiya glared again, but rose slowly and painfully from the bed. Raiha offered him a hand, but Tokiya purposefully ignored it – he wanted more than anything to slap it, but figured that might be dangerous here in the blue-haired man’s territory. He followed the general across the room and out a tall, ornate door. On the other side, a young woman about his age stood waiting for them, pike in hand. Raiha nodded to her.

“This is Colonel Fuuko, street-rat,” he offered by way of introduction. “Head of security for Lord Kurei. You’ll obey her if you don’t want another hole in your chest.” Tokiya’s eyes narrowed, and he cast an angry glance toward the colonel, but Fuuko ignored him. Moody, captive civilians were nothing to get excited about.

The little group headed down a long, dark corridor lined with tapestries and velvet curtains hung across doorframes. Tokiya kept his eyes straight ahead, but took in what he could of the palace out of the corner of his eye. Everything was incredibly lush and ornate – nothing Tokiya had ever seen came close to it. Finally, the three reached a set of double doors twice as tall as Tokiya himself. A guard stood on each side of the doors, weapons ceremoniously drawn. They nodded to General Raiha, then one of them gave a short tap on the wall, and the doors slid open. Tokiya found himself looking down a vast expanse of red carpet, surrounded by pillars and military men. Raiha gave him a little shove, and he headed down the center aisle, eyes warily tuned on the rows and rows of armored guards. He pitied anyone brought here as an enemy.

Ahead of him, he could see a raised platform with three chairs. The center, and largest one, was occupied by a young girl – Tokiya recognized her as Princess Yanagi, daughter of the reigning king whom Kurei obeyed. Tokiya had heard that Princess Yanagi was in this part of the country to help Kurei organize the population, but the rumors had been highly doubted, as children of the alleys never saw royalty. ‘Well,’ Tokiya thought with a bout of irony, ‘looks like I’m breaking tradition today.’ On either side of Princess Yanagi there stood two sturdy-looking chairs. In one, a lady dressed all in green lounged, a bored smile on her face. Tokiya assumed that must be Lady Kurenai, Kurei’s wife.

The third person on the platform was the one occupying most of Tokiya’s attention. Lord Kurei was a tall man, with jet-black hair and hard eyes shining through the mask he was rumored never to take off. Word on the street whispered that Kurei wore the mask to cover scars from a fire he barely lived through – others believed it was a way of intimidating his enemies. Tokiya didn’t care either way. Kurei’s long red robe melted into the carpet at his feet, giving the illusion that he was taller even than he really was. His sharp eyes watched Tokiya as he progressed down the aisle between rows of polished silver troops.

When he reached the edge of the platform, Tokiya stopped and knelt down, dropping his eyes to the carpet. No matter how much he despised bowing to others, his respect for Lord Kurei’s power with both mind and sword was genuine. He felt the eyes of his masked lord on his bent back and bandaged shoulder; then he heard footsteps across the floor.

“Stand,” came a powerful and deep voice above him. Tokiya rose to his feet. He had to look up to meet Kurei’s eyes, and the image the other man made was imposing indeed when he was standing seven inches taller than Tokiya himself. Lord Kurei looked him up and down, then ordered, “Your name.”

Tokiya opened his mouth to respond, then hesitated. Only his sister had ever called him by his first name, and he had no desire to hear it from the mouth of anyone else. It was best to put Tokiya behind him for now – when and if he escaped, he could take it up again. For now... “Mikagami,” he answered, drilling the name into his psyche. That was how he would think of himself until he was reunited with Mifuyu.

Kurei tilted his head slightly. “Mikagami. Any relation to Lord Mikagami of the western provincial corps?” Mikagami hid his surprise at Lord Kurei’s question.

“None that I know of,” he responded in clipped tones. He was being civil, but nowhere was it written that one must be cooperative and kind when kidnapped. Kurei nodded vaguely, as though the question hadn’t mattered in the first place, then began pacing in front of his silver-haired captive.

“General Raiha tells me you killed six members of a street gang single-handedly. Is this true?” Mikagami gave a slight nod. Kurei paused in his pacing a moment, then resumed. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

This surprised Mikagami, and he started ever so slightly. “What might that be?” he asked, trying to sound disinterested despite his confusion. Lord Kurei gave a heavy sigh and put a hand to his temple.

“Recca,” he muttered. Mikagami blinked.

“Recca? I don’t understand, Lord.”

Kurei stopped moving and turned to face Mikagami. “Recca is my half-brother. He is sixteen last month, but still acts decidedly like a child. He delights in coming here and distracting Princess Yanagi from her work.” Mikagami raised an eyebrow, quietly wondering if the two were involved, but Kurei waved him off. “Not like that. They’ve been friends since childhood, and he feels great affection for her; therefore, he wishes to spend the days with her. But Princess Yanagi has many logistical problems to focus on, and has already had to delay her departure by several months because of his excessive interruptions. Also, Recca has made friends with the guard assigned to him – he uses this friendship to escape from his quarters whenever possible. I can’t count the number of times I have had to interrupt my military from important tasks in order to send them looking for him.” Mikagami privately thought that if the boy was so much trouble, Lord Kurei ought to just let him get mixed up with the city’s gangs, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

Kurei, guessing his thoughts on some level, fixed him with a hard stare. “I am not overly fond of my brother, but he was left in my keeping when our father died, and I feel responsible for seeing to it that he is restrained from risky activities and kept safe. What I am asking is your help in this endeavor.”

Mikagami frowned a little, not liking where this was going. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what it is you want me to do.” Kurei gave another short sigh.

“I want you to be his caretaker. Keep track of him, prevent him from getting into trouble, and make sure he keeps up with his studies.” Mikagami couldn’t hide his surprise this time – it showed plainly on his face.

“You want me to be his babysitter?” Mikagami asked, incredulous.

“I suppose you could put it that way,” Kurei allowed. “Will you do it?”

Mikagami shook his head passionately from side to side. ‘Forgive me, Lord, but I’d rather decline this particular favor. I’m not sure I would be suited for this kind of work.” He glared moodily up at Kurei, who glared back and opened his mouth to retort. Before he could speak, however, Mikagami felt a soft hand on his arm and turned to see Princess Yanagi looking pleadingly into his blue eyes.

“I know we’re asking a lot of you,” she acknowledged, gripping his forearm a little tighter. “But... well... things just can’t go on like this. Recca is a dear friend of mine, but I simply can’t put off the work I’m doing any longer.” Tears began to collect in her pretty eyes, and she looked away from him. “People are suffering in the city, and I’m here to help them, but... but I just haven’t been able to give this my full attention. Please... I beg you...” She looked up to Mikagami’s face once more, blinking back her tears.

Mikagami, for his part, was in a state of advanced shock. He could hardly believe Princess Yanagi had been sent to improve life for their city, but her eyes told him she was not lying. And then, beyond that, there was an eerie resemblance in her expression and features to Mifuyu, and her teary voice was so like his sister’s that he could hardly bear to hear her entreaties. And no matter how much he didn’t want to take care of this royal brat, he felt his resolve slipping away. Her tears were the final straw, and he gently shook his head in resignation.

“All right, all right, I understand,” he answered softly. Casting his eyes back up to Lord Kurei, he said, “I’ll watch him.” Kurei sighed.

“Thank you. Colonel Fuuko,” he called across the room. The young woman Mikagami had met earlier made her way swiftly to the front of the platform and bowed. “Take Master Mikagami to Recca’s quarters.” Fuuko nodded, then rose and motioned for Mikagami to follow her. He did as instructed, shadowing her steps down a new corridor. He ignored her most of the way, until she paused just before the door that he assumed led to Recca’s room. Then she turned to face him, a small smirk on her face.

“I just wanted to apologize ahead of time for everything you’re getting yourself into.” Mikagami’s eyes narrowed, but he stayed silent. “You’re a nice guy for agreeing to deal with Lord Recca. Most of us avoid him whenever possible.” Mikagami frowned.

“Is he bad tempered?” Fuuko laughed lightly.

“Certainly not. He’s the most amusing kid I’ve ever met. He’s just... a handful. I’m not sure how you’ll like him – he’s pretty much your opposite, from what I can tell.” Mikagami’s glare intensified.

“I didn’t want this job,” he reminded her harshly. She nodded sympathetically.

“Yeah, I know. Shame. Oh well – let’s get this over with.” She turned and unlocked the door, pushing it open and motioning him to enter. He stepped over the threshold, eyes scanning the near-darkness. Suddenly, a flaming torch was thrust into his face. Behind it, beady eyes studied him – he could barely see a tussock of dark hair spilling across the flat forehead. Surprised, Mikagami thrust his fist forward and caught the man in the stomach; the man’s eyes widened, then he doubled over, clutching his gut in pain. From behind him, Mikagami heard Colonel Fuuko sigh heavily.

“Domon, you idiot,” she admonished. “That’s what you get for sneaking around like a fool.” Domon looked up at her voice, his eyes showing his excitement.

“Colonel Fuuko!” he cried, straightening instantly. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Fuuko rolled her eyes.

“Shut it, Domon. I’m just here to drop off Lord Recca’s caretaker.” Domon cast Mikagami a skeptical glance.

“Him? This puny guy?” Mikagami’s eyes narrowed, and he cast a disapproving glance over the ape of a man he correctly guessed to be Recca’s special guardian.

“Ask your stomach for its opinion on that,” he muttered. Domon blinked, then rubbed his sore middle in recognition.

Fuuko, getting fed up with the conversation, gave Domon a sharp slap to the side of the head. “Where’s Lord Recca?” she demanded as he rubbed painfully at his forming headache.

“In his bedroom. I told him to get on that schoolwork, but...” Mikagami didn’t stay to hear Domon’s excuses. He headed into the next chamber, looking carefully around him as though Recca might leap out at him any moment.

Mikagami stopped when he saw the figure slouched lazily across a wooden table. The young man turned at the sound of his footsteps, and his eyes widened at the unfamiliar person standing in his bedroom. Mikagami blinked at the messy black hair obscuring the boy’s bright green eyes, the confused expression, and the ink pen held between white teeth. He could practically feel Recca’s eyes passing over his loose ponytail, white robe, and bandaged shoulder, pausing momentarily to study his icy blue eyes. Then Fuuko’s voice broke their silent contemplation.

“Lord Recca, this is Master Mikagami. Lord Kurei has secured him as your caretaker for the time being.” Recca blinked. Then a slow smile spread across his face, growing into a maniacal grin that dominated his face. He gave an energetic chuckle, then leapt from his seat and straight for Mikagami.

“Nice to meet’cha!” he exclaimed heartily. As his body hit the floor, Mikagami felt a sense of dread growing in the pit of his stomach. It had been a long time since he’d made a decision this bad.

End Part 1