New project. Another Misaki and Fushimi fanfiction! :)
This is based in GoRA's official art about this pair.
Can this fanfiction have a happy ending? Perhaps yes, perhaps not. A lot of hurt is going on in this.
Either way, this is their last chance.
Ups, I am revealing too much. ^^'
Take this life
I'm already dead
I'll rise to fall again
"Ugh… Where… Am I?", a boy grunted, getting up from the dusty, cold floor.
The boy had chestnut hair covered by a black beanie, amber eyes and wore, beside his beanie, a red jacket half way open and underneath it, covering his somewhat built chest, a white shirt with black stripes. In addition, he wore red buccaneers that reached a little more than his knees, red risen sneakers that look liked All Stars and around his neck he carried some black headphones.
He looked around. The room he was in was covered in dust and didn't have any windows, although there was some light coming from the ceiling… A faint shining light between the cracks made its way to the room. There was no furniture, only dust and pieces of the ceiling on the floor.
What was this place? He didn't remember how he got there…
Picking his skateboard from the floor next to where he had been unconscious, he put it under his right arm and decided to exit the room through the only exited available – a rotten door with, fortunately, no lock.
However, he wanted to call Kunagasi-san. Perhaps, he could tell where he was by locating him through GPS. That should solve some problems and getting him out of there.
He was shocked when he looked at his left wrist. His watch… There was no sign of it. He nervously searched every pocket of his clothes and found… None.
"Wait a second… WHEN DID I FUCKING CHANGE MY CLOTHES?!", Yata screamed, the beating of his heart going faster and faster, finally noticing the change of his clothes.
The only way to find out his answers was behind that old door. He put his trembling hand in the knob, gulped hard and slowly opened the door. The door opened with an acute sound.
There was a little dark hall with five doors. Three of them were in front of Yata, another was in the left and other in the right of where Yata was standing. The hall also had a pair of old, dusty stairs, in one lead above floor and the other to the below floor.
Yata certainly didn't want to go upstairs. Something about that shining light was very suspicious… But, not scary. Because Yata was a man and men fear nothing, although his heart kept beating harder and harder but like he said, he was just anxious.
He kept telling himself that.
The doors weren't definitely an option. They would probably led to rooms like the one where he woke up and he was trying to find a way out of the house (if you could call it) not having a tour inside it.
That only left the stairs to the beneath floor remaining. Gulping hard, Yata advanced to it. One stile at the time, very slowly, he made it to the last stile and it creaked so loudly that it could have been heard in every single division of the room.
Yata contracted all of his body and closed his eyes.
What if someone or something heard and now was heading towards him, waiting to shred his body into pieces? Or whoever kidnapped him was preparing his tools to open up his body to later sell his vital organs in the dark market? The thoughts were so disgusting and his brain didn't stop. It was making Yata feel sick.
After waiting more than 3 minutes in the stile for something to jump out and attack him, his shoulders loosen up a bit and he let out a little laugh. His brain had been playing with him all this time. There was nothing in this house! Not even a soul was there.
A little confident but still careful, he headed to a door that was slightly opened. He had tried the others, however, they were all locked up.
As he pushed the door slowly, he became surprised.
He was in a classic dining room, with a huge chandelier made of diamonds in the center of the room, lighting up the area as the candles emitted a soft glow.
The table reached 50 meters of length, with a white like snow, lacy with amount of details towel adorning the table.
On the top of the towel, the table was set. Shinning knives, forks, spoons, plates and glasses filled it. It looked like 60 people were expected to have dinner in there…
Or they had been expected.
The walls had portraits in golden frames, however all the shown portraits had their faces covered with spider webs, making it hard to identify the people painted.
However, all the eyes, being them green, grey, blue or brown shinned with the candles light and seem to follow every movement made by Misaki.
He could help but be in awe and be frightened at the same time.
He gently put a white hand in the white towel, touching and feeling the soft if it.
"Will I be able to escape from here?", he whispered softly.
"Will I be to see Mikoto-san, Kusanagi-san, Totsuka-san, Kamamoto, all the guys…", the tears started forming in his amber eyes.
"Will I… Be able to see… Saruhiko again?", a single, lonely tear escaped his eye.
The memories of his past were repeating inside his head. He was having flashbacks.
The HOMRA days were the first ones to come up. The happy, warm ones.
When Totsuka, Kamamoto, him and Anna went shopping for the girl, having Totsuka and him spending all the money in arcade games along with Anna as she played war games for "red" to came out, being, in the end, Kamamoto who paid for her new dress, which Mikoto-san complimented.
When Misaki tried to do his first traditional Japanese rice, with Kamamoto pissing him off, telling him that he was all wrong and was a cooking disaster and leading Kamamoto to be shouted several times, although in the end, the fat man ate more than half of the rice by himself, allowing Misaki to do his fried rice in future times.
That time when all the HOMRA members were playing baseball and some strain killer girl appeared to have revenge on Chitose. Being the playboy of HOMRA, the woman was probably not happy with Chitose and his sweet lies of the other one-night stand. Chitose could have excavated his grave that day, but somehow he managed to find a way in the woman's heart for her to forgive him and at the same time, never to be each other again.
Or that time when a strain horse ran off with Anna on his back, being, of course, Mikoto-san to catch it when no one could. The result was especially painful for Bandou, who trying to be hero by thinking of stopping the horse by putting himself on the horse's way ended up by reaching a kick oh his face by the horse, breaking his sun glasses as well as some bones from his face.
Or when Totsuka stated he wanted to learn how to skateboard and Misaki was explaining to him how to do the tricks as HOMRA members laughed at Totsuka as he pitifully tried to do Misaki's tricks inside the bar. Kusanagi was cleaning his glasses like usual, but was always, in the corner of his eye, watching darkly for any scratch that they could made on his precious bar, make the only responsible for that same scratch paid it in a way they would forget in a long time.
His memories went beyond. They receded more than that, back to times he felt so whole in silence with only a person beside him.
A person he could call best friend.
A person who he could look and they would understand each other by just gazing in the eyes each other.
Amber into cerulean.
A person he could trust his back without a doubt.
A person who cared for him as much as he cared for that person.
Until, that hateful day - the betrayal.
Despite all the hate and sorrow, Misaki actually didn't hate him.
He felt sad. He didn't understand him. He didn't understand why he left HOMRA.
Still, he still had a glint of hope that perhaps they would, somehow, return to how they were.
But now, with Misaki unable to escape from that lonely, old prison; he could only regret his actions.
Maybe, if he taken some time to ask him, in the beginning, why he was changing so much and drifting away from Misaki, he would still be on his side, probably looking for Misaki, with his disappearance worrying him.
Deep inside his heart, he wanted the boy to be the one to find him.
"… Saruhiko…", he gripped the towel as one single, lonely tear fell from his amber eyes and laid on the towel.
He raised his head. He felt something different in the atmosphere of the dining room.
It was more heavy and suspicious. The lights of the candles were, one by one, quenching, leaving the room more and more bathed in sepulchral darkness. Almost like some invisible being was blowing softly the lights of the candles into nothingness.
Misaki wiped his face to his sleeve. He looked again towards the unrecognizable portraits hanging in the walls.
Misaki could swear all their eyes were on him, watching his every move and judging him by it.
Trembling hard, he took a single candle from the table and as the lights reached their ending, he ignited the candle in his hand with his red aura.
The room was now in deepest darkness as Misaki hold the last light.
He tried to look around him and he located the door he had come from. It was still open as he had left it.
He walked slowly towards it, with the light shaking, when suddenly; he felt an irregular breathing against his right side of the neck.
Misaki stopped death in his tracks with eyes wide open.
Someone was right behind and it lowered his head until Misaki felt the irregular breath closer and closer, sending a tingle sensation down his neck and spine.
He wanted to run away. He wanted to scream.
However, his body wouldn't respond to him and the fear had placed a hand on his mouth, silencing him.
The next action of that person caught him of guard – it licked gently his right side of the neck as if tasting him.
As a wakeup call, Misaki's mind unlocked out of trance. He screamed out loud as he drowned his body in his own aura.
Immediately, the person backed away from him. Misaki felt the presence jumping and running in the room, in a dark shadow that Misaki tried to bring up with his aura.
He felt the presence disappear. He was not there in the room with him anymore.
Misaki still emerged in his own aura, was looking at every direction for something to jump off. He would surely burn it until no blood, nor bones, nor ashes were left behind.
His eyes opened wide a second time. He was in total fear by now. He could feel eyes burning his back.
Gulping hard, he turned around, with every muscle of his body trembling.
He looked at the other end of the table and could make it as dark, tall, slime silhouette sat on the end of the table.
Immediately, the silhouette opened his eyes to reveal two glowing red orbits that rested on Misaki's figure.
A door behind the silhouette creaked open soundly, leaving a slightly open space.
Misaki took a step back. The silhouette was still gazing at him with red orbits glowing. Behind the now opened door, ten more eyes opened up to reveal five pairs of glowing red orbits.
Those eyes… Their gazing was burning his soul.
Clenching his fist, Misaki realized that he was too afraid to battle whatever it was gazing on him. The mere presences of them were burning his being.
He turned his back and started running. He could feel them all chasing after him, like felines, trying to catch him and leaving helpless into their hands.
He didn't know where he was heading as he run down huge hall ways in a pitiful attempt to escape whatever it was chasing him.
He was growing tired and the silhouettes presences were growing stronger and stronger, running faster and faster after Misaki. He could feel some hands starting to grip his clothes and shred them.
He closed his eyes and screamed. He would be caught by them and they would whatever they wanted with him.
Turning around in a corner, Misaki could feel something gripping his right wrist and dragging into a dark corner.
He was doomed. They had caught him.
Something covered his mouth with a cold, soft hand and other hand gripped his waist, making Misaki scream in pitiful attempts and struggling hard to break free from whatever was holding him.
He wouldn't reach his ending without a fight. He would fight until death.
Misaki managed to free his left arm and give a kick with his elbow in something.
The figure holding him, fell onto the ground, groaning in pain, as he dragged Misaki along.
With his mouth still covered, Misaki noticed something familiar. It was a faint familiar sense.
The figure put his mouth right next to his left ear, but his breathing was soft and calm.
"Calm the fuck down, Misaki." , the figure stated in an annoyed tone.
In that moment, Misaki ceased his struggling and the figure let go of him.
Misaki turned around on his knees to the person who was sitting on the floor, resting his back on the wall.
"Sa… Saruhiko?", Misaki asked in a careful and disbelieving voice.
"Yes, it's me you idiot.", Fushimi signed.
Misaki was breathless rom all the running, but he felt so happy. Saruhiko came look for him. He was there right in front of him and, just like he wished, he saved him from whatever terrible fate he almost had minutes ago.
Of course he would never admit to the other boy that he felt an urge happiness flowing inside him because Saruhiko was there with him.
"What are you doing here?", Misaki asked while sitting on the ground.
"Tsk. Wouldn't I like to know.", Fushimi replied, searching for something.
"Wait… YOU DON'T KNOW HOW YOU ENDED UP HERE?!"
"Talk quieter, you single-celled moron!", Fushimi shot him a death glare, that even in the dark, Misaki could feel the threating action of Fushimi's glare. "Here, lighten up this torch."
"Don't boss me around!", Misaki snatched the torch from Fushimi's hand.
Lighten it up, Misaki saw an unusual sight in front of him. Instead of a Scepter4 uniform, Fushimi was wearing a green jacket with a hood containing black fur around it; dark jeans and black and white sneakers. Furthermore, he also wore, around his pale neck, a black necklace.
"New change of clothes?", Misaki questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Looks like I wasn't the only one, was I, Misaki~?", Fushimi got up and snatched the torch away from Misaki, carefully exiting the dark corner, looking both sides of the hall for any signal of life. "We can't stay hidden in here for much longer. They will find us soon, if we do."
"Who exactly are they?", Misaki got up and went to stood beside Saruhiko.
"I don't know… Perhaps they are some worthless Strains.", Fushimi shrugged, annoyed, and started walking down the hallway.
"… What kind of Strain licks other people's necks?", Misaki put a hand on his neck, where the dark presence licked him. "Hey! Saru! Wait for me!"
Reviews are appreciated! ^^