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mistleto-3 · 7 years

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Awakening: Part 1

When another crisis looms, Mikoto has to learn to navigate a world of Kings as a regular man.

AU in which Mikoto and Tatara survived the Colourless King incident.

Pairing: Mikoto/Tatara

3,750 words. CW for canon-typical violence, mentions of depression and other mental health issues. Kuroshiro mention.

Sequel to my earlier fics Breathing and Breathless (which have recently been redrafted.) This fic will follow the Missing Kings and Return of Kings timeline.

Seeing as I started Breathing on Tatara’s birthday last year, it seemed fitting to start the sequel on Mikoto’s. I’ve been super excited to get back into writing this fic for ages.

All parts | Next part

AO3 | Ko-Fi

"This is the end of the line."

A figure swathed in black stepped out of the shadows of the narrow side street to block the path of the small group of Homra members, brandishing two long, curved blades on a double-ended weapon. The goggles covering their eyes glowed an eerie neon green, and they spoke in a distorted voice from beneath the mask that covered their lips, like a villain in a horror movie.

"Hand over the girl," they demanded.

Mikoto immediately moved to position himself between Anna and the masked figure. Despite the fact he'd long since returned his powers to the Slate, the move was instinctive. Beside her, Tatara tightened his grip on her shoulder, knowing full well he could do little more to protect her than Mikoto could.

"Over my dead body," came Mikoto's brisk reply.

Rikio stepped forward, lighting his fists- he had been accompanying the small family. Since the Green clan’s activity had begun to pick up and this ninja-like figure had made their first appearance outside the bar, he'd insisted that he remain close to Mikoto, Tatara, and Anna at all times, should a situation like this one arise. Tatara was glad now that Rikio had the good sense to pressure them into accepting the help.

Rikio grit his teeth and rushed at the ninja, leaping upwards and spinning in mid-air to send a wave of his aura rippling towards them. As he lunged forward, he called out:

"Who the hell are you?!" His tone was hostile.

But the attack that looked so sure to hit its target found nothing but empty air- the figure had simply dematerialised.

And appeared again behind Rikio.

Tatara didn't even have time to cry out a warning to his friend- his breath froze in his lungs at the sight of the masked attacker raising their weapon, ready to strike at Rikio's exposed back.

"I have no reason to answer," the ninja replied, deadpan, and the electronic buzz to their voice sent an uncanny shiver down Tatara's spine. All he could do was try to cover Anna's eyes.

Suddenly, a man darted into the alleyway, too quickly to make out who he was until he came to a sudden halt between Rikio and the attacker. He had caught the ninja’s blade with his bare palm.

The Black Dog, Yatogami Kuroh.

The attacker faltered at the effortlessness of the way he interrupted the battle.

“W-what?”

A hint of panic crept into that electronic voice, and they leapt back, distancing themself from Kuroh and landing in a crouch a safe distance away.

“You’re with Jungle, the Green clan, I gather,” Kuroh said. “Well, I know that girl. If you want to continue, I’ll take over from here.” A subtle hint of threat lurked beneath his tone.

The figure stood up straight, an arc of green electricity flickering across their body as they sheathed their weapon. Then, they reached out a hand toward the wall beside them and stepped through it, seeming to carve a pathway out of the brick with more of that green light.

“My business does not involve having to fight you,” they said simply, vanishing into the glowing portal that closed immediately behind them.

Kuroh watched, a frown forming between his brows as the attacker disappeared from view. “Was that the rumoured manipulation ability of the Green clan?” he said, appearing to speak more to himself than to the others present.

“Long time no see, Black Dog,” Rikio piped up, seeming to snap Kuroh back into the present. “Guess I owe you one.”

“Have we met?” Kuroh asked.

Rikio appeared slightly stung. “Aw, come on.”

At that point, Tatara piped up in defence of his friend. “He’s the high-ranking Red clansman Kamamoto Rikio. As I understand it, you met on Ashinaka last year. You went with him and Yatagarasu to go and search for me whilst everyone was evacuating.” Tatara managed to maintain his chipper demeanour as he spoke, but there was a slight falter in his smile- the attempt to kidnap Anna had clearly shaken him somewhat. But he was doing better than Mikoto, at least, who was stony-faced and silent, bristling with fury that was almost tangible in the air. The pair of them both had a protective hand on Anna’s shoulders.

“Kamamoto… Rikio?” Kuroh narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“Can’t say I blame you for not recognising me right away… I haven’t had much of an appetite since everything that happened last year. Summer’s over, but I’m still skin and bones.”

A small frown creased between Anna’s brows at his words, and she turned towards him. “Rikio…”

“Hey, but don’t you worry, Anna. I may be thin, but I still pack lots of power,” he said confidently.

“Why is the Green clan after you?” Kuroh interrupted, glancing between the group of Reds.

“It’s a mystery to us…” Tatara admitted. “That ninja showed up at the bar one day, saying they had a request for Anna.”

As Tatara spoke, Neko caught up with her friend, and she waved at the Red clansmen over Kuroh’s shoulder.

“Request?” Kuroh raised an eyebrow.

“They asked for Anna to use her sensory powers…” Tatara began, but Anna interrupted him:

“To ‘find the Silver King’.”

“Huh?” Neko straightened up at the mention of their King.

“What?” Kuroh demanded. “You can do that?”

“You can find Shiro?!” Neko cried.

Anna paused, then shook her head solemnly. “I can’t right now…”

The faces of the two Silver clansmen fell. “Is that so…” Kuroh said quietly.

“Anna’s powers have been… a little fickle for a while now…” Tatara explained. “Our clan hasn’t been in the best shape since everything that happened last year.”

“She can’t locate people right now,” Rikio said.

Kuroh stepped forward. “But you were asked to find him. Does that mean he’s alive?”

“I don’t know,” Anna admitted.

“Why… is the Green clan looking for Shiro?” Kuroh’s gaze dropped, and he once more appeared to be thinking aloud rather than talking to anyone in particular.

“So… what now?” Rikio asked.

“Can’t you join up with the rest of your clan?” Kuroh said.

“Homra is as good as disbanded right now.” Rikio explained.

“We’re pretty much all that’s left…” Tatara rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Since King abdicated, the others have mostly drifted away, and there isn’t much we can do to protect Anna by ourselves. Not when the only one with any meaningful amount of power is Kamamoto. Even Kusanagi-san is out of the country.”

“Homra’s strategist?” Kuroh asked.

“I can’t divulge the details, but I’m the only fighter left for the time being,” Rikio said.

“What about that take-charge clansman? Isn’t he always at the vanguard?”

Rikio’s expression sank at the mention of his friend. “Well… Yata-san is…”

“…dealing with some personal problems right now,” Tatara finished for him.

It seemed the melancholy in the Red clansmen's voice as they spoke of Misaki didn't go unnoticed, and Kuroh merely nodded respectfully and dropped the subject.

It wasn't as though Misaki's emotional strain hadn't been evident on Ashinaka Island the better part of a year ago, but he'd been in damage control mode then, trying to deal as best he could with the trauma of nearly having to watch one of his best friends die in his arms whilst coping with everything going on around him. Since then, the dust had settled and the adrenaline had subsided. Once it became clear that nobody else was in any immediate danger, he'd had time to process what had happened, and the reality of everything that had taken place had begun to sink in. It had clearly shaken Misaki to his core. The repercussions had manifested slowly- at first, he'd simply been a little more snippy, a little more protective of Tatara. And then his mood had started to drop, the fire in him started to fizzle out. He showed up at the bar less and less, and when he did, it was often with greasy hair and bags under his eyes. Tatara had spotted the symptoms of depression from a mile away, but Misaki had pushed back hard when Tatara suggested maybe he should speak to somebody about it. Not that Tatara had expected any different- going to a professional would have been showing weakness in Misaki’s eyes.

And then the rest of Homra had begun to drift, and Misaki's mental illness had begun to manifest in earnest. It was written all over his face: he hated himself for not being strong enough to drag himself into the bar every day, hated himself for barely being able to get out of bed when Mikoto and Tatara had been through worse but were still doing better than he was. And then there were all these other clansmen who were perfectly capable of showing their faces, but they chose not to. He resented them for it, and it was eating away at him. All of that, combined with the aftershocks of the trauma that Tatara's brush with death had left behind in him... Tatara almost didn't recognise him anymore. No matter what he or Mikoto or Rikio or anyone else in Homra had tried, they couldn't get him out of his spiral. There had even been times they'd considered contacting Saruhiko, but they knew Misaki would never forgive them for informing his enemy of his perceived weakness.

Before Izumo had left for Germany, he'd said that, as much as they might have wanted to, there was nothing they could do to help someone who didn't want to be helped, and that they needed to give him time. It was only then that Tatara had finally, reluctantly, accepted defeat. But he still dropped by Misaki's apartment every now and again with care packages of food and toiletries, just in case.

There was a moment of quiet as the mention of Misaki made the members of the Red clan collectively wince, and then Neko piped up: "Kurosuke! We can't leave them by themselves in case the ninja comes back! Anna is Neko's friend, and Totsuka is Shiro's friend. Shiro would want us to help them!"

Kuroh looked at her for a moment, then nodded. "We have a room at the high school that we use as our home base. It will be easier to protect; we can shelter you there until the threat has passed."

"Thank you," Tatara said. "We appreciate your help."

The mismatched group set off together, with Neko leading the way. Mikoto trailed a short distance behind, his hand protectively on Anna's shoulder; he still hadn't said a word since the attacker had disappeared. Rikio followed close behind his old King, keeping up a wary vigilance in case they were attacked a second time, and Tatara and Kuroh brought up the rear.

"I haven't seen you since that day on Ashinaka last winter," Tatara said to him quietly. "How have you been?"

"We haven't found Shiro yet. We don't even know if he's alive," Kuroh said, by way of an answer.

"You've been searching for him all this time?"

Kuroh nodded. "…What did he say to you, before he disappeared?"

"It was hardly a suicide note, if that's what you're worried about."

"But what did he say, exactly?"

"That he felt despite having clansmen who followed them, each of the Kings is walking a solitary path. But I told him that wasn't true; if it wasn't for the Slate, there would be dozens of lonely people who never found the family that they found in Homra, and I never would have met the love of my life."

Kuroh nodded slowly.

"He wasn't talking like someone walking down death row; he told me about how much you and Neko mean to him."

"He did?"

"He said you're the best friends he's had in a long time. I don't think he would stay away unless he had a good reason to, but something tells me that good reason isn't that he's dead."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Sometimes you just get a feeling about some things," Tatara said lightly.

Kuroh seemed to ponder what he'd said for a moment, then changed the subject awkwardly. "So it's true, about you and your King...?"

"Practically married? Yeah, it is." A sly smile twisted on Tatara's lips. "Why do you ask?"

Kuroh was stoically silent for a moment.

"You have feelings for Shiro, don't you?" As Kuroh opened his mouth to protest, Tatara cut in playfully, trying to lighten the mood. "Don't try to deny it~. You talk about him the way I talk about King."

"...I barely knew him for two weeks," Kuroh protested weakly.

"Like I said, sometimes you just get a feeling about some things. I had that feeling about King, that he would be someone special. I wish it hadn't taken so long to figure out just how special, though."

Kuroh nodded slowly, then fell silent as the group climbed the stairs into the light rail station, seeming to chew over what Tatara had said. After a moment, cleared his throat and spoke up once more, addressing the whole of the small group of Red clansmen: "It'll be helpful too, if you can fill in the details for us. The audacity of the Green clan to enter another clan's territory is worrisome." The abruptness of the way he changed the subject made Tatara smile.

"I'm sorry," Anna said suddenly, and Kuroh paused to look at her.

"For what?"

"About your king... I know it wasn’t him who tried to kill Tatara."

Kuroh nodded solemnly. “You said your powers were unstable; is nearly losing the Red King the cause?”

“No… this is different.” She drew her hands up to her chest, and as she lifted her head, the shadow of her hood receded, revealing deep worry carved across her expression. She paused, suddenly seeming to be trembling, and there was a moment of quiet as the older clansmen regarded her, concerned by her sudden change in demeanour.

The quiet was broken as a crackle of green light arced across the roof of the building, and the television screens it leapt through flickered and went blank in a shower of sparks. Mikoto instinctively made a grab for Anna, drawing her close against his body, and with his other hand he grasped Tatara’s wrist tightly. Kuroh and Rikio tensed. A shutter near the exit began to lower as the clansmen looked around for their assailant, instinctively moving to surround Mikoto, Tatara, and Anna as best they could, in the hope they’d be able to protect them. It was only then they seemed to realise the station was empty except for themselves.

“I’m feeling all tingly; something is coming!” Neko cried.

Footsteps, eerily loud, rang through the cavern of the building, accompanied by more of the green lightning, and then a sing-song voice announced: “As one travels on, a reunion awaits them, right for the moment.”

Kuroh tensed, seemingly in recognition, and he reached for the hilt of his sword. “That haiku… is by Master Ichigen… It can’t be!”

Neko hissed as the figure of the speaker drew closer, then stopped. A tall young man with long, indigo hair and delicate, feminine features, dressed in dark clothing. He had a blade not unlike Kuroh’s strapped to his back, and an almost serene smile on his face.

“I wonder why his poems are so touching…” he said. “Hi, Kuroh. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Have you been well?”

“Mishakuji Yukari…”

At the resentment in Kuroh’s voice, Tatara laced his fingers with Mikoto’s and tightened his grip anxiously.

“Hey, who is that?” Rikio asked, his voice low. Tatara was impressed at how much of his evident fear he managed to keep out of his tone.

“Mishakuji Yukari. Former clansman of the late Seventh King, Master Ichigen Miwa, and student in swordsmanship. I once addressed him as my senior,” Kuroh explained tersely.

“S-senior?” Rikio said tentatively, taking a step closer to his friends.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Kuroh demanded, addressing the newcomer.

“Oh, wipe that scary look off your face. Aren’t you happy to see me?” Yukari’s voice was playful.

“You?! Someone who pointed his blade at Master Ichigen?! Stop messing around!” Kuroh’s words grew to a shout as he spoke, and he tightened his grip on his sword, lowering his stance.

Yukari giggled. “Oh, that was just a test of our spirit. That’s the strong bond that he and I shared. You still don’t understand that?”

“Liar!”

“When I learned of his death, I cried for the first time in a long while. I still carry those feelings with me. But now you show up to get in my way…”

“Answer me, are you with the Green clan?!” Kuroh demanded.

Yukari drew his blade, the metal engulfed in arcs of green static. “Yes. That’s why I’m taking that girl,” he announced, nodding towards Anna.

Tatara felt Mikoto stiffen beside him. His jaw clenched as he ground his teeth, and it was written across his face that he wanted nothing more than to see the stranger who threatened his daughter burned to ash. His frustration at being able to do nothing was palpable.

“So Shiro…. Adolf K. Weismann is alive?” Kuroh pressed, drawing his blade, but his hands were shaking.

“I dunno. That’s what we want to find out: if our biggest threat to the Green clan is dead or alive,” Yukari said simply, then darted across the room towards his old comrade. Neko barely had time to cry out a warning before their swords clashed.

“I was quite pleased when I learned that we’ve become foes. See, I was determined to overcome our tragic destiny.” He said the words with a quality of almost irony in his voice. “But you, Kuroh…”

“Get away from here!” Kuroh cried over his shoulder towards the others.

Tatara didn’t need telling twice, and the four Red clansmen turned and hurried for the exit, with Mikoto clinging onto Anna’s hand.

Yukari merely watched them leave, making no attempt to stop them. “What’s with this sword?” he asked casually, then took a swing at Kuroh.

Kuroh parried the attack, but it knocked him sliding back across the tile floor. He grunted, then charged forward again, swiping repeatedly at his opponent, but none of his attacks connected.

“And here I was looking forward to sparring with you! This isn’t even fun!” Yukari commiserated as he danced out of the way of the onslaught.

“There’s nothing to learn from you at this point!” Kuroh snarled.

The two Colourless clansmen appeared to have forgotten about the escaping Reds, who were still running for the exit as Rikio prepared to blast through the shutters. They were nearly at the doors when an eerie green glow suddenly emitted from one of the pillars in front of them, and from the light emerged the ninja who had attacked them earlier that day. The group skidded to a halt, and Rikio spun around to urge them in the opposite direction, but as his back was turned to the Green ninja, they struck out at him, carving a deep gash down between his shoulders. He grunted in pain.

“Rikio!” Anna and Tatara cried out in unison as he toppled to the ground.

Tatara instinctively rushed to help his friend, but received a swift kick to the ribs for his efforts, knocking him sliding across the tile floor. He gasped for breath, winded by the shooting pain.

Mikoto squared up to the Green clansman, his hands curling into fists. There was a dark fury in his eyes that, a year ago, would have been the last thing their attacker would have seen. But his powers were gone, and all he could do was dodge to avoid the swing of their blade. He struck out with his fist, but the attack only found empty air, and then the hilt of their weapon caught him on the temple and he stumbled, dazed. But he never let go of Anna’s hand.

“Mikoto!” she cried.

The attacker spun Mikoto around to secure his wrists with a cable tie, but as they attempted to do so, he headbutted them in the stomach, and they spluttered briefly, but only hesitated for a fraction of a second before kicking Mikoto in the back of the knees, knocking him to the floor and finally forcing him to release his grasp on Anna. Then, they grabbed her, lifting the girl to lay her over their shoulder as she struggled.

With a snarl, Mikoto swiped at the ninja’s legs with his foot, almost loosening their grip enough for Anna to slip free.

“I’m taking Kushina Anna,” they announced, and their distorted voice made Tatara’s blood feel as though it had turned to ice in his veins. “And if I must take Suoh Mikoto as well, then so be it.” There was a sickening crack as the ninja kicked Mikoto in the side of the head to subdue him. He slumped against the tile flooring, only semi-conscious as the attacker grabbed him by his bindings.

“S-stop!” Rikio protested weakly, but the back of his jacket was soaked with blood, and he could do nothing more than reach meekly towards the kidnapper.

Tatara couldn’t even speak through the floods of tears. He could only watch in wide-eyed horror.

Kuroh was still locked in a heated battle with his old comrade, apparently at a disadvantage, and he barely even seemed cognisant of what was going on behind him. It was only when Yukari paused to look past him at where the masked assailant stood that Kuroh even seemed to notice Yukari wasn’t the only enemy present.

“Oh? Mission accomplished already?” Yukari remarked, then turned back to Kuroh. “And that means this lesson is over. Too bad.”

He danced past his opponent to join the other green clansman, and the ninja stepped to the side, back into the portal they had emerged from, carrying Anna over their shoulder and dragging Mikoto along behind them.

“King!” Tatara cried out in panic, and as he did so, Neko called:

“Anna!” and hurried towards the Greens, but Yukari swung his blade, sending out a bolt of electricity that cut across the ground in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.

“We’ll meet again, Kuroh. Next time, though, be more mentally prepared.”

With that, the two Green clansmen and their captives disappeared back into the portal. The green light swallowed them up and closed behind them.

#mikototsu #k project #suoh mikoto #totsuka tatara #k fanfic #fic: breathing #fic: awakening

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