Chapter Text
When Fushimi arrived at the scene, the only person he saw was his Misaki. The unconscious body of the masked man, Kusanagi attempting to melt the bars containing a trapped Anna, and even the Strain known as Neko faded into the background as he kneeled on the marble beside Yata. He quickly triaged the various burns across the idiot’s body before placing two fingers against his jugular.
His pulse is weak, but he’s still breathing, that’s good. That means his heart’s still going. When he placed an ear over his chest he felt his worry return. His heart rate is slowing down. Why? These injuries aren’t life threatening.
“—hello? Listen to Neko, gloomy glasses!”
Cool cobalt eyes met green and light blue. “Do you know what’s happening to him?”
She shook her head, her bell earring ringing as she did so. “No! One second he was all ‘I’ll set you on fire!’ and the next he was really hurt. But glasses over there said to get him out of here since he’s hurt.”
Fushimi sent a scathing glare towards Kusanagi, whose back was to him. “He hasn’t managed to free Anna and yet he’s telling you to retreat?”
“What else are we supposed to do? That scary man with the sword and the evil bird will be back here any minute, and my illusions can’t protect him,” she pointed at the unmoving form of Yata.
“Go help Kusanagi rescue Anna. I’ll watch over Misaki.”
She furrowed her brow suspiciously. “I thought you two hated each other?”
He rolled his eyes, a hand moving to the first aid kit he’d swiped from one of Scepter 4’s vans. “Just go.”
It looked like she wanted to argue, but when Kuroh burst through a nearby wall with Mishakuji hot on his heels, she tore off towards the cage in order to square up with Kotosaka (the Green Clan’s parrot/medium) heading towards it.
Once alone, he set to work.
Worst burns receive treatment first. Ignore the blisters on the sides of his face and neck and start with his right arm. Fushimi wasn’t a doctor by any means, but part of Scepter 4’s basic training included emergency medicine. This was his first time using what he’d learned, sure, yet compared to piloting a helicopter something told him that this was less complicated. First, I cut off the fabric getting in the way of his injuries. There went his sleeves. Next, I apply the antibiotic cleansing spray. That should keep infection from setting in as well as make it easier to remove the dead skin at the hospital. There’s not much I can do about the musculature these third-degree burns revealed, but I can cover the injuries with aloe-infused gauze to prevent any more damage to the sites. Moving from the right arm to the left, then to both of Yata’s legs, Fushimi had just finished tending to the worst of the burns when he felt his red aura flare up.
His fingers found the fabric over his HOMRA tattoo. Before he could pull his coat down to see what was going on with it, the boy in his lap opened his eyes.
Instead of hazel, however, all he saw was red.
“Saru?” Yata managed to get out before he all but burst into an inferno of flames.
Fushimi put an arm up over his face to save himself from being blinded. There was no dodging the flames at point blank range, but to his surprise the flames washed over him harmlessly. By the time he put his arm down Yata was looking up at him with a shit-eating grin on his face. His eyes had returned to hazel as well.
“Did you really think I’d burn my own clansman?”
The words took a second to register. When they did, Fushimi’s eyes widened at the same time as the parrot began shouting.
“Squawk! A Sword of Damocles has just been manifested! A new Red King has been born!”
“Damn right!” Yata yelled back, pushing himself off of Fushimi and standing up to face the center of the room. He outstretched his less damaged arm and aimed a large blast of flames at Anna’s cage. Kuroh and Mishakuji watched from the sidelines where their own fight had crawled to a standstill as Neko and Kotosaka were forced to jump out of the way; the flames washed over Anna and Kusanagi without issue. Within seconds all but the base of the golden cage was a pile of molten metal.
“Misaki!” Anna shouted with a smile. “Your red! It’s just like Mikoto’s!”
Fushimi watched as Yata opened his mouth to respond, but winded up groaning in pain instead.
“Misaki?” He went to grab his shoulder only to be thrown back as a pair of flaming red wings made of raw power appeared out of the new king’s back. Once he’d skidded to a halt, he watched Yata crumple to his hands and knees, waves of heat rolling from him slowly turning the room into a furnace. “Misaki!”
One moment Yata felt like he was on top of the world, and the next the familiar voice of the Slate was trying to take the power he’d been given back from him.
“Prove you have what it takes to take up the mantle of king.”
Prying an eye open, Yata breathed raggedly as he stared up at the ceiling blocking his view of the sword. With a mighty cry he sent a line of fire straight up. It incinerated a hole through the ceiling leaving no debris to harm those in the room.
“Prove it, huh? Well listen up you stupid rock! The name is Yatagarasu, and while I may not be HOMRA’s vanguard anymore, as the new Red King I’ll kick the asses of anyone who tries to hurt my family! That includes you!”
“Yatagarasu. A mythical crow said to be a deity of guidance to those who followed it. I suppose the name is fitting for one such as yourself.” There was a long pause. Yata felt like he was being watched, like his soul was bare to the manifestation of the Slate deeming his worthiness. He held his breath for what felt like minutes until there was a shift in the air. “Very well. I hope you live up to your title, wild crow.”
Instantly the influx of heat pouring out of him stopped like a faucet had been shut off. The wings on his back shrank to a much more manageable size before disappearing altogether. As he let out a sigh of relief, he looked over his shoulder to see Fushimi approaching him.
“Of course your precious Mikoto passed his mantle onto you,” he remarked irritably. “Paving the road to a third unstable Red King. Wonderful.”
Despite his words he had reached a hand down for Yata to grab. The new king accepted the help with a cheeky grin, a bout of confidence filling him as he regarded the lack of hostility in those words.
“Good thing I’ll have you to keep me in check, huh?”
“What’re you going on about, idiot? I’m not getting paid to babysit a virgin.”
“Why you—”
Interrupting their argument was the pompous voice of Mishakuji.
“Come now, Nagare. This newborn can barely control his own power. Why should we give up on having the lovely princess of the Red Clan locate the Silver King for us when she’s standing only a few yards away?”
The once anonymous Green King spoke back through the parrot medium.
“While the Red King might be beatable, the Blue King is nearby. One must know when to bow out gracefully.”
Kusanagi shouted something about the parrot being the Green King, Nagare Hisui, but Yata was too busy getting angry that a parrot called him an easy fight.
“Who do you think you’re calling beatable, you dumb bird!”
The parrot cocked its head at Yata. “Ah, it is a shame I could not greet you in person. Your strategist is indeed correct; I am Nagare Hisui, the Green King. It is a pleasure to meet you, Misaki Yata, or should I say new Red King.”
“Go to hell you bastard! If I ever meet you in person I’ll burn you for kidnapping Anna!”
Mishakuji laughed behind a gloved hand. “Oh, the little boy is a feisty one! Perhaps you shouldn’t give him that birthday present after all.”
Nagare hummed. “I suppose it’s a good thing it can also function as a memorial gift.” Then, to everyone in the room. “Goodbye for now. And please try not to die too soon, lest what happens next be painfully boring.”
Kuroh tried to stop the swordsman from leaving, but with a flashy show of power he and the parrot disappeared.
“Cowards,” Yata spat out as he and Fushimi made their way over to where the others were.
Fushimi paused, however, when across the room the ninja (who’d woken up during all the commotion) said something that sounded like “Lightning Bolt Jutsu” and looked through the hole in the ceiling. Everyone followed her gaze to see chains of lightning amassing over Yata’s sword.
“What is that?” Neko shouted.
Kusanagi frowned. “That must be the present they mentioned.”
Without wasting a second Fushimi threw a handful of blue-flame-coated knives at the ninja, stopping her from phasing through the floor. He closed the distance between them as he spoke. “Explain what that is, or you’ll never leave this place alive.”
Looking resigned, Douhan took off her ninja mask and answered calmly. “It’s an ability of my king where he takes energy from his clansmen and creates lightning with it. An attack of that scale, well,” she almost seemed angry.
“Go on,” Fushimi demanded.
“He obviously intends to destroy the tower and everyone inside it.”
Eyes widening, he quickly turned his communicator with Scepter 4 on to relay what he’d just been told. At the same time Douhan tore off the knives pinning her in place before quickly phasing through the floor.
“Um, Kuroh?” Neko’s hair stood on end as she panicked. “Shouldn’t we be trying to get out of here?”
“There’s no time,” he responded darkly.
Above them, the lightning compacted into one large orb of pure energy. From the sound of the air crackling and sizzling above them it was obvious they only had seconds to act.
Yata looked around the room at Anna, Kusanagi, and the members of the Silver Clan. His eyes met Fushimi’s last, and with a determined huff the new Red King raised his arms in the air. At the same time a large bolt of green lightning shot down towards them.
“I am not letting those assholes hurt a single one of you!”
A red-tinted dome of pure energy blocked the lightning’s path. It continued to rain down on them, every second passing making Yata more and more exhausted. He ignored Anna and Kusanagi shouting his name, instead responding to Fushimi’s worried “you moron, you’re still hurt!”
“Heh. If I can’t protect everyone against something like this, then how can I expect anyone to call me king?”
Letting out a yell, he poured all his power into the barrier. While it dimmed intermittently, he was proud to say it held up until the last bolt of lightning struck it. Or so he thought.
He cursed as he swayed, nearly falling over if not for Fushimi lending an arm to support him. He had no time to thank him as another bout of lightning surged down towards them. This time Yata’s sword was dim, showing there was no power left to reflect the attack.
No! It can’t end here, he thought, his head swimming too much for him to speak.
Just before the lightning could hit them, however, a blue-tinted shield appeared between them and the attack protectively. Ice followed the lightning bolt to its source, freezing the energy in place before bursting in a shower of ice particles. In the sky above those assembled at the top of the tower a second sword could be seen. Bright blue shone next to dim red. Seconds later, Munakata himself waltzed into the room.
"It seems I made it just in time," he commented while adjusting his glasses with a knowing smile. "Thank you for the heads up, Fushimi. And congratulations on becoming the next Red King, Misaki Yata."
Despite being injured and tired beyond belief, Yata shrugged off Fushimi so he could stand on his own. Then he marched straight up to the Blue King.
For several seconds, no one moved. Yata's eyes fell on the sword used to kill Mikoto. He scowled at it, but eventually he grumbled an annoyed "I guess I can't hold what you did against you" before raising his gaze back to Munakata's face. "Listen here, blue. Just because I'm a king now doesn't mean I'm going to fight you like Mikoto did. You mess with the Red Clan, then we'll knock you into next week for sure, but that doesn't mean we can't work together to kick the Green Clan's asses. From what I can tell they're going to be trouble."
The Blue King nodded. "Crudely spoken, but correct nonetheless. I accept your terms for the time being. I look forward to working with you all."
He held a gloved hand out. Yata regarded it with surprise; however, just before he returned the gesture he froze.
"Wait wait wait. Before we call truce or whatever, which I am only doing because I owe you one for saving us just now, I forgot I have a bone to pick with someone." He looked over his shoulder at Fushimi and stuck a thumb in his direction. "I have a question to ask that jerk, and depending on his answer I might need us to amend our deal."
Munakata raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Very well. Fushimi, please join us. It seems this alliance rests on your shoulders."
Once Fushimi had joined them, albeit confusedly, Yata turned to face the younger blue with a dusting of pink on his face, which Fushimi was quick to draw attention to.
"Are you blushing, Misaki?"
"Sh-shut up, Saru! This is hard, okay? Ugh. Anyway, I realized now that I'm the Red King I have some control over my clansmen. And you betrayed HOMRA. Normally I wouldn't take that lightly, but considering you patched me up I thought I'd ask, well...:"
"Spit it out."
The words came out in a rush as if they were painful to say. "Do you want me to get rid of the HOMRA tattoo?"
Both of the blues seemed startled by the offer.
"What?" Fushimi said.
Yata crossed his arms. "It's not that I don't want you in my clan. I just know you said you left because of Mr. Mikoto, and since he's not here anymore I thought I'd see if you wanted to, y'know, be in the Red Clan again? Not that you'd need to leave those lame blues. Obviously you fit in pretty well with them. And he seems to be your true king," he gestured to Munakata. "I figured I should offer you an out too though, since you're always trying to scratch that tattoo off. I don't want you hurting yourself over it anymore." He took a deep breath. "So, again, if you don't want to be a red clansman anymore I can make it happen. But," and there was that blush again, "if you wanted to remain in both clans, and your other king is cool with it, we'd— I'd be happy to have you. You could be an ambassador or something. Or you could just come over for dinner sometimes. O-or a sparring match between friends! Because I am not sparring against your king," he finished awkwardly.
For a moment Fushimi stood there stunned. Then, after a long moment, he began to chuckle.
"One-hundred points, Misaki."
Yata blinked. "Huh?"
Fushimi turned to the Blue King. "Captain, would you agree to me being in both clans as an ambassador of sorts? I would still fulfill all of my duties for Scepter 4. But I could pop into bar HOMRA every now and then for a chat with Misaki."
Munakata hummed thoughtfully. "Such a strengthened relationship would benefit both our clans in the long-term. I don't see an issue in the foreseeable future either. Permission granted, Fushimi."
Surprised that he had actually taken the deal, Yata let out a delighted yell and threw a fist in the air. "Awesome! Saru, once I'm all healed up I challenge you to a fight with my new powers. Afterwards we can even see if those wings can be used for flying! And then I'll cook us some rice with pineapples, since I know you hate veggies and... and..."
Fushimi surged forward just fast enough to catch the fainted king before he fell flat on his face.
An amused huff left the Blue King. "Now this is certainly interesting. Fushimi, should I be worried about your 'relationship' with the new Red King?"
"Shut up, Captain."