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Who: Saruhiko Fushimi and Misaki Yata
When: Jan. 30th, before they fall asleep
Where: Xihe's temple
What: So they remembered each other. This is gonna be painful. Spoilers for K and Lost Small World

[And once again, morning comes and Fushimi is not in his bedroom or Misaki's.

At least this time he's just in the stable? And he let the doors slam shut as he bolted from the temple this morning? And isn't even trying to hide the guilt and hatred and anger and confusion boiling over in him after waking up and suddenly remembering what felt like everything from his past life?

Well, not everything. Just the things involving Misaki, which sure felt like everything.

There's a mirror in the stable, a full-body mirror that Fushimi uses sometimes to make sure he didn't miss anything when he's rubbing Sicily down. He tugs his shirt and jacket off, staring at the burn scar on his shoulder.

The scar he did to himself.

Just to piss off Misaki.]

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[ It's the slam of a door that has Yata jolting awake with a yelp, limbs flailing, cats displaced with yowling protests before the redhead flails too far and slides off one side of the bed to land, half upside-down, staring at his now-empty room.

He blinks at it for a minute, because while still definitely half-asleep, his mind is already churning with...

Shit. Shit. There are memories now where before there were giant gaping holes, emptiness. And more than he's ever gotten before, all at once, rushing back, jumping from one to the other as his brain spins out on tangents of times when he was young and tried so hard to make others like him, only to eventually land himself at Saru's side instead. Of chasing mysteries with him, of finding a home together.

Of fire, and Homra, and betrayal and...

He doesn't remember everything. There are still holes, gaping spaces of time passing that he has no reference for, but...

He remembers Saru. He's pretty sure he remembers every moment he and Saru had ever spent together.

....There had been a lot of them. So many that he can't even begin to process them all. But suddenly the slam of the door makes a lot more sense and he jolts upright in sudden alarm, looking frantically around the empty room and spying only their cats. Muttering a string of curses, he scrambles for his clothes before darting out of their room, hoping Saru hadn't taken off like the last time, when he'd remembered....

Niki. His father. Shit. Yata can't remember the man's face, remembers nothing about the man himself, but he remembers Saru's fear, his self-loathing, his loneliness - all those years ago in that giant house with that man.

Fuck. He had to find Saru.

He yells his name, dashing into the main temple first and then out the back door again and heading straight for the stables. If he was still on the Temple grounds, he'd be there. If not... he'd have to wake Izumo, to see if their god could track him. If this was as bad as before...

But at least this time, as he skids into the stables, his expression frantic, he immediately spots his best friend within, standing shirtless in the stall, staring at his reflection in the old mirror.

Well. That answers one question. Sort of? ]

....Saru?

[Fushimi looks at Misaki in the mirror.]

Tch.

[ Yata freezes where he stands, going to Saru's reflection and meeting his gaze for a long moment before dropping to the scarred Homra brand on his chest.

He remembers the day that happened. Remembers the conversation that had prompted it. His fingers curl into fists at his side and he has to push back the overwhelming surge of anger, of frustration, of betrayal that comes with it all over again. Like it's new, like he's experiencing it in the moment once more. but that was... it was years ago. Not right now. he knows more now, has more context for it. He knows how Saru had felt about him and his deep connections to Homra - connections he hadn't felt despite how much he'd wanted to stay by Yata's side. But no, his loyalties would call him elsewhere, even if it took Yata years to understand that. Focusing on that conversation they'd had the day he's pulled him out of the Green headquarters, he pushes those emotions back and away again and instead holds Saru's gaze evenly in his reflection. ]

You remember too. Don't you.

[ It's not really a question. Each time they've done this, it's almost always been together, since arriving here. As if even now, as shinki, their memories are all still tangled up together, one pulling the other along with it, impossible to separate. ]

Tch. Do you have to get every memory I get or something?

[Fushimi knows that's not the case, that there's some memories Misaki can't get, but whatever. He starts to tug his shirt back on.]

[ Saru's attitude stings, colder and more distanced than he's been with Yata since they'd first arrived here. He averts his gaze, flinching a little, and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

...Was this just going to send them back to how they'd been before? Even the thought of that has his stomach clenching with sudden nervousness and dread. ]

Maybe you just get all the ones I do. [ He huffs out, trying not to show that he is afraid of how this conversation could go. ]

...So that's a yes then, huh?

I shoved you out of my house when we were kids.

[Because of his father. Fushimi's voice is soft as he continues.]

We had an apartment together, decided to fuck high school and go it alone. We wanted to change the world. You watched me play games more than you played them.

Edited 2018-10-03 15:54 (UTC)

I kept coming back, though.

[ Yata is quick to point this out, his gaze coming back up to watch Saru get dressed again. ]

And you were always better at those than I was. I have to practice hardcore to ever beat you. Still.

[ A pause before he glances down, holding up his arm and looking at the watch he's worn since the day he'd arrived here. ]

You made this. You gave it to me. Even after you left, I never took it off. I knew you'd answer if I really needed you.

And I did, when you were looking for that Anna girl. That was the only time you called me, after I left.

[Fushimi laughs a little.]

You never called to try and talk to me, you only ever called to get help for them. I don't even remember who they are and I hate them.

[ His fingers curl into tight fists within the pocket of his baggy shorts all over again. ]

You made it sound pretty clear that you didn't want anything to do with me. That you were walking away from all of it - but especially me. You hated me, Saru. Every time we saw each other, we were fighting. Maybe I should have tried to talk to you more, but...

[ he trails off, his shoulders hunching in again. ]

I didn't understand. I didn't understand any of it. I didn't know what I had done that made you hate me so much, only that you did. That hurt so much more than I ever let myself think about, I couldn't, because I didn't know what I'd done.

[ But at the same time, a part of him had always assumed - known? - that it was his fault. That he'd done something to fuck it all up so horribly that Saru had literally burned away the symbol of their bond before leaving. That had all fed on a much deeper and more sinuous fear and insecurity, so of course, he had lashed out in anger in return, trying to hide his own fear and pain and guilt. ]

It should have been obvious.

[He hasn't turned around to face Misaki properly. He doesn't think he can.]

You knew me better than anyone, Misaki, and you were so in love with whoever those HOMRA idiots are that you didn't notice a damn thing until I burned myself for you.

[ He makes a small sound, an involuntary flinch, as if Saru had just punched him.

Maybe it would have hurt less if he had. ]

You didn't tell me anything! I thought you were right there with me, just like we'd always been. You never showed me.... anything! You just kept quiet about it all or brushed me off entirely or... We were partners, Saru, and yes, okay, I was blind and oblivious and an idiot but you should have... I don't know, punched me with it or something instead of just... walking away from all of it!

[ Saru not looking at him is infuriating in itself, because he can't see what he feels, can't read any of Saru's little ticks, so he reaches out, grabbing him by the shoulder and trying to spin him around towards him. ]

[Fushimi yanks his shoulder away, refusing to let Misaki turn him around.]

I never had to before. I don't have to now! Why should I have then?

Because you should have, dammit! [ Yata snarls. When Saru won't turn around, he moves himself in front of him instead, planting himself directly in Saru's line of vision and grabbing him by the front of his half-buttoned shirt. ] You know I can be an idiot sometimes! That I fuck things up because I'm not paying attention, or paying attention to the wrong things! I get caught up in what's happening, or going on or... I miss things, alright, I'm not you!

[Fushimi doesn't meet Misaki's eyes, though he doesn't pull away either.]

You never missed anything about me before. You were always there. And then you weren't. The hell was I supposed to think, Misaki?

[ This time he is definitely sure he'd much rather Saru had punched him. Or stabbed him. His grip falters, fingers going limp as he pales and ducks his head, his chest tight with shame and guilt, expression twisted with actual pain and sharp regret.

His memories of those days were only of anger and confusion and the sharp sudden sting of unexpected betrayal. But Saru's words still rang true. He hadn't noticed. His best friend had been silently falling apart, pulling further and further away, and Yata had been so caught up in Homra that he hadn't noticed a thing.

Some loyal friend he'd turned out to be. For all his prideful talk of 'partners' and loyalty and trust, he hadn't been there in that moment what Saru had needed him most. He hadn't even noticed until it was too late.

His hand falls away from the front of Saru's shirt and this time it's his gaze that's averted, shoulders curling inward a little. ]

You're right. I should have noticed, and I didn't. I can't go back and change it, Saru. Believe me, I would if I could.

...I know.

[Because he does know that now. He doesn't think he did before.]

I know you would.

[There's a lot of confusing emotions going on in Fushimi's head right now. He's still not looking at Misaki and he's still mad and hurt and even some guilt, because he knows it wasn't entirely Misaki's fault.

But Fushimi'd been seeing his father when he shouldn't've. Why didn't Misaki notice?]

I still hate whoever the hell HOMRA was, though. ['Except Izumo' goes without saying since he's not sure that Izumo was HOMRA, just that it's incredibly likely.] Idiots, all of them.

[ There's a part of Yata that wants to snarl at that, to leap in defense of the family he held dear, even when he couldn't remember them. But there's also memories in his head now that has him expecting this from Saru, so he just huffs out a quiet, frustrated breath and crosses his arms over his chest, staring at his feet. ]

Well. Yeah. I was there. What did you expect?

Not that level of stupidity.

[Just saying.]

You shouldn't be the smartest person in the room, Misaki. That ends badly for everyone involved.

You don't even remember Homra! [ He thinks? ] And I think we just established that I was probably not the smartest person in any of those rooms, otherwise I wouldn't have fucked everything up so badly.

I remember how I feel about them. That's enough.

[Just saying.]

You might be a little biased, you know.

And you aren't?

[ Yata shoots him a crooked - if hesitant and uncertain - smile, one corner of his lips tugging upwards. ]

Well. Yeah?

Tch.

[Fushimi still isn't looking at Misaki.]

I never hated you.

[ The smile slips away again, his gaze dropping to the ground once more. ]

Yeah, well. You were a damn convincing actor, then.

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