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“Suoh Mikoto, are you prepared to pay the price for your request?”
Amber eyes meet clear, sightless ones that seem to see despite themselves.
“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
“Very well. It is done.”
The demon’s emblem sears itself onto his hand. He grits his teeth and bears it.
“You have only until sunset to say your goodbyes. Otherwise, I can't guarantee the safety of your family once the change takes you.”
***
When he sees Tatara laughing with Anna and Yata, the relief he feels is palpable. Izumo’s relief is also clear, but there's concern too. The moment an opportunity opens, Izumo motions him outside the room, away from the others.
Izumo looks him over from head to toe, catches sight of the strange tattoo on his hand. His face pales.
“What did you do, Mikoto?”
“I’m taking care of it,” he says, clapping a hand on Izumo's shoulder. He ignores Izumo’s searching eyes, and the call of his name as he heads back into Tatara’s room.
***
A kinder man would’ve made it easy for Munakata, a clean break, a lie to make the separation less painful. Not Mikoto. He wants to touch him, kiss him, hold him for however much time he has left. Fushimi's not inclined to agree with him.
“Get out of the way, Fushimi,” Mikoto says. He slams a hand against the blue shield blocking his path. As a human, the resounding shock would've knocked him on his ass. Now he’s walking the thin line between human and something else, and that something makes Fushimi's shield shudder and flicker.
The kid’s eyes can't quite meet Mikoto's, but his back stays straight, and he doesn’t budge from blocking Mikoto’s entrance to the room.
Any other time, Mikoto would admire that, but tonight it’s just one more thing standing in his way.
“No.” Fushimi says.
“Fushimi-”
“You're always like this, so fucking selfish!”
His eyes do meet Mikoto's now, and he pauses. There’s pain and rage in those eyes -pain born not of hate, but of grief. Which means he knows, and if he knows then -
“Fushimi-kun,” Munakata says, appearing from behind the boy. They exchange a look, not more than a second, but it's enough.
“Idiots.” Fushimi clicks his tongue, sends one last glare at Mikoto, and disappears in a flash of blue light, taking the last barrier with him.
***
They're standing on Munakata's balcony, staring at nothing in particular. The sun burns brightly overhead. The sounds of birds, traffic, and people fill the air, all the daily sounds of life Mikoto's never paid much attention to or cared to. He feels the same way even now, but it does remind him that this is the last time he has with Munakata before…
He glances at his hand. The demon’s brand is working its way up his arm, burning his skin a charcoal black in its curves and sigils, blood pulsing from the edges. Painful as fuck but that won't be an issue soon. Besides it can’t compare to the icy fury in Munakata’s eyes.
“If you’d come to me, I could have-” Munakata starts.
“No. We both would've been fucked then,” Mikoto says.
“I fail to see how that's not the case now.”
Mikoto does, but doesn't argue the point.
“Can you do it?”
“Of course I can. As can any of my brethren-”
“No. It has to be you.”
Munakata inhales shakily, and looks away first.
Fuck.
He catches Munakata close to him, ignoring Munakata's stiff rebelliousness. Munakata doesn't shout, doesn't cry, but he does curse him. Quietly. Viciously. Mikoto lets him, doesn't say a word of complaint, just holds his trembling body close.
***
Only an hour at most until the sun sets, until Mikoto’s change takes over his being. Earlier they came together like they normally do-like lightning striking the ground, like a wildfire rushing through a forest, consuming all in its wake. Yet, as the sky deepened in color and the hours wound down, their touches became slower, more tender, almost reverent. They can count a handful of times they’ve touched each other so, and now they wish they’d done it more often.
They're facing each other, hands trailing over toughened skin and scars. Munakata's been staring at the demon’s mark for a while now, a thoughtful expression on his face as his fingers hover just above it.
“Suoh, what was the price?”
“Dumb question, you already know,” Mikoto says.
“Humor me.” A bitter curl of lips and Mikoto knows the words he leaves unspoken.
“Tatara's life for my soul.”
“Those were the demon's exact words?”
Mikoto opens his mouth to agree, but pauses.
“Suoh?”
“No...not exactly.”
“The most important aspect of a man are his mind, body and heart. You cannot destroy just the one, for it will inevitably return with the help of the other two. But take away a man's soul and you can utterly destroy him. This is what I will take for Tatara's life.”
“Ah. I see now.” Munakata whispers. He finally meets Mikoto’s eyes.
“Mikoto, you really are a fool.”
He will remember this moment in his nightmares. Munakata’s feelings, too painful to name, seeping into every part of Mikoto's being, embracing him more tenderly than dove wings and stealing his breath away. The answering call of his own feelings, mere seconds of pure bliss forever shattered by a devastating truth.
It's too late. He knows it even though instinct has his hand catching Munakata's wrist before his fingers can touch skin.
“Don’t- ’’
He tries to sit up but finds he's held down by an invisible weight bearing down on him.
Their eyes catch and Munakata smiles.
“Suoh, I know what you needed me to do. That things should turn out this way instead, well...I really don't mind.”
A hand caresses his cheek, and the softest kiss is pressed against his lips before Munakata pulls back completely. Mikoto can only grit his teeth because he still can't fucking move. Held down by the strength of Munakata's will.
Anger's always been his constant companion, hunger for violence tempered only by the stronger love and loyalty he held for those close to him. Now he feels something else. It slides under his skin like cold steel, wraps around bone and muscle, siphoning his strength, and stalling his heart.
And for the first time in his life, Mikoto is afraid.
“The demons...they wanted you. Fuck, they always wanted you.”
Mikoto doesn't see the shadows creeping into the room, overturning furniture, breaking glass, and knocking out the lights. He doesn't see the curtains catch fire, the flames crawling up the walls, and across the floor, the only light in a room suddenly dark for a sun that hasn't yet set.
No, he only has eyes for Munakata hovering inches above him. He’s naked and covered from head to toe with the demon's seal. His wings, suddenly on full display, shudder and feathers drop from his body like soft tears as the shadows leap from the walls to wrap around Munakata.
“Can you do it, Suoh? Can you kill me?” Munakata asks. This close, Mikoto sees the last rays of violet in his eyes being consumed by the darkest black as the shadows completely encompass him.
The hold on Mikoto finally breaks and he lunges for Munakata but he’s already gone. Only his last words linger in the air.
“If you do not kill me, I will destroy everything you love, and I will leave nothing behind. No blood.”
No.
“No bone.”
No!
“No ash.”
“NO!”
The roar of the fire swallows the echoing bellow of a man whose soul has been viciously ripped from his body.