K – Return of Kings: Side Stories c5

The Pleiades & The Eldest Son and His Best Friend by Kabei Yukako

Side A. The Pleiades

“…Hm, splendid. Concise yet with all the necessary details. A report that leaves nothing to be desired. It has only been 2 months since you joined us, yet you are handling your work very efficiently, even though I a.s.signed no one to bring you up to speed.”
“Anyone can guess the gist of what government office work const.i.tutes. And if someone can’t do this kind of work without being specifically taught it, then they have no imagination whatsoever.”
“I do not know what those who have no imagination, as you put it, would think if they heard you, but I find such words promising.” Leaning his chin on his clasped hands, Munakata gave Fus.h.i.+mi an eccentric smile.

At the time, Fus.h.i.+mi, standing in the Captain’s office, had just finished his report about a certain case. Since it took place soon after he had joined Scepter 4, it would place that happenstance 3 years prior.

Whole 3 years, huh, Fus.h.i.+mi thought.

“…However… There is still something lacking, regarding another case.”
“What is? I don’t think I’m forgetting anything” Fus.h.i.+mi inquired, slightly testily. He didn’t mind it if the corners he cut intentionally were to be pointed out to him, but he hated it when someone nitpicked on the work he actually gave his best effort.
“The registration name for your saber. It is still blank, is it not?”
“Is there really need for one?”

Fus.h.i.+mi steeled himself for any compliant coming out of Munakata’s mouth, except for that; with a sigh his straightened back visibly relaxed. The saber in the blue sheath, strapped to his left hip, reminded him of its existence with a metal click.

He was told to name the saber he had received during the installation however he wanted and register the name later. All the blue clansmen seemed to have registered names for theirs.

A name for a saber? What the h.e.l.l was even that?

If his own imagination was lacking somewhere, it would be there, so he wanted to at least have some examples to work with, and when he asked Awas.h.i.+ma Seri, her saber turned out to be named “Kikyou” - and he could sort of agree that the name of bellflower, dignified and refined, was fitting for the Lieutenant.

Munakata’s own saber was named “Tenrou”; Fus.h.i.+mi had a feeling he heard that name somewhere, and when he recalled where, he unwittingly let it slip in a “Aah, it means Sirius, right?”, giving Munakata an opening to bestow that irritating smile upon him.

“It is a formality. But a formality that is by no means pointless, in my frank opinion. While the sabers may all be standard provision weapons, by naming one’s own and maintaining it day after day, one nurtures the confidence that one is a person worthy to have it at one’s waist, as well as the sense of responsibility for one’s duties.”
“Then I’m fine with making its serial number its name. It’s not like this saber is special or irreplaceable that no other will do.”

Himself and the other troops, who trained to channel their supernatural power through their one saber only, had fundamentally different styles, after all. Unlike to the people who were proud of their saber, regarding it as something akin to the symbol of a clansman, to Fus.h.i.+mi his saber was nothing more than a tool - along with his numerous hidden weapons. Fus.h.i.+mi would use appropriate tools and power to gain an advantage in a fight at any given time and under any given circ.u.mstances. Simple as that.

“I see. Then, would you mind terribly if I named your saber at my own discretion?”
“Be my guest.”
“Subaru.”

Receiving such an instantaneous reply the moment he had voiced his careless okay left Fus.h.i.+mi effectively lost for words.

“You did say you did not mind, only a moment ago, no?”

Watching Munakata’s smug face as he pointed that out, Fus.h.i.+mi felt the frustration welling up inside about the fact that he had just been tricked. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d had been looking to do this right from the start, huh…

“Subaru,” Munakata repeated loud and clear. Seated behind his desk, with his chin still on his hands, he was looking up at Fus.h.i.+mi, who was standing in front of the desk, with a refined, yet self-satisfied smile. “It is another name of the cl.u.s.ter of blue binary stars, the Pleiades. Although I imagine that you already know that and hardly require my explanation. It is a good name, do you not agree? I have no doubt that your work will live up to that name.”

The provocative phrasing caused Fus.h.i.+mi to want to rebel.

“…Register it all you want, but I’d rather die than use that embarra.s.sing name,” Fus.h.i.+mi almost groaned with a face full of disgust.

♦

Fus.h.i.+mi’s hearing registered quiet rustling taps.

The same instance, he was on his feet, knees moving to brace himself as both his hands reached for his left hip unconsciously. His left hand made to grip the sheath while his right to lay on the handle - except there was nothing to lay on where it was supposed to be, and his fingers only brushed through empty s.p.a.ce.

Tap, tap, tap… a gray mouse was nimbly crossing along the railing of the loft.

“A mouse, huh…”

Did some holes open up in this place that were big enough for mice to get through? But well, that wouldn’t be surprising: rooms with no human presence were only to be expected to become infested by mice. If anything, he was the trespa.s.ser here, barging into the empty apartment without permission.

The only other thing save for a mezzanine loft, kitchen and a door to the bathroom and toilet, all situated only on 3 tatami mats in total, was a square s.p.a.ce encircled by bare concrete on all the four sides.

Clicking his tongue at how his hands reached out for his saber, Fus.h.i.+mi plopped down to the floor of the loft with a thump. If he had still worn his saber, it would have clattered against the flooring when he did, but the clatter he came to instinctively expect was not there either.

When he had the falling out with Munakata, in the heat of the moment he lodged the saber in the door of the truck, leaving it there. He had other weapons, after all. Surely, he wouldn’t be inconvenienced because of one saber missing - or so it was supposed to be, but actually not having the saber with him made him feel anxious. The weapons he had on him right now to defend himself with were only the knives small enough to fit under his current clothes and shoes.

He had been wearing the saber for 3 years. Its weight engraved itself into the marrow of his bones during those 3 years, and now, without it, he felt like his balance had become strangely precarious. Well, he was sure that it was just a trick his senses played on him, nothing more.

But maybe he shouldn’t have left the saber behind, after all? No, if you decided to do something, you must do it thoroughly, no half-a.s.sing - that was how you did it, too, no, Captain?

All the members, unfortunate enough to be present at the scene, went pale, but that was all according to the plan. No one would suspect the fight was staged seeing that much verbal abuse flung around. Even if the Greens tapped the troops’ exchanges in hopes of disclosing Fus.h.i.+mi’s real motives, they would draw a blank, not finding any hidden agenda. They likely did have their doubts and suspicions about him, only so far, he encountered no conclusive evidence that they, indeed, had.

He let out a short sigh. His standing and reputation in Scepter 4 must have plummeted into depths by now. But he would recover it through hard and efficient work, he decided. If he would manage to go back alive and get the chance to, that is.

He grabbed the PDA that he had put near him. The big logo “Jungle” that appeared on the screen bathed the surroundings in green light, then the picture switched to the main page of the application.

The J rank, said to be the rank of the top green clansmen, was a step away. Only J rankers were allowed to have a face to face audience with the Green King. Now, Fus.h.i.+mi only had to clear one more big mission…

Just when he had that thought, the screen that had already dimmed suddenly lit up again, signaling that he had an incoming call. The picture on the sceen changed forcefully, displaying the caller’s number.

“Tch… again, huh. No way I’d answer that, so quit being so d.a.m.n persistent already.” That was the line he ended up repeating a lot during this month.

His phone was totally being tapped, so get the clue already, moron.

This mouth, Fus.h.i.+mi was moving, changing net cafes and places every few days, but, thinking that a change in his action pattern wouldn’t hurt, he dropped by this apartment before going to the next place. But it was clear that he needed to change places come tomorrow. Although he had a blanket, it was cold, and his back was sore. It wasn’t like he had a responsibility to keep his expenses down anyway. Maybe he would stop at a decent hotel, for a change.

Lying down on his back, he placed his PDA on his stomach. He had turned off the ringtone and the vibration, so now it was impossible to know when he had an incoming call. He turned the notifications off, but he couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment of time when he did. Or for how long his PDA was ringing.

He had to cut off all his ties to Scepter 4. To do it thoroughly, he had left his saber and his uniform behind. His own brains, his own strength and the small knives up his sleeves were the only things he still had to rely upon.

“…Come chase after me if you can…” he whispered to himself with his eyes closed, and it amused him for some reason, making the corners of his mouth lift up in a smirk.

What he threw to him was the only other end of the lifeline he had left.





Side B: The Eldest Son and His Best Friend

This would be his last attempt.

Having decided that, Yata pressed the call icon. If Fus.h.i.+mi didn’t answer now, then Yata wouldn’t bother giving a d.a.m.n anymore about a guy like that. Not a d.a.m.n would be given, he swore.

Yata glared at the holographic screen that his wrist.w.a.tch PDA projected like it was his nemesis that was guilty of nothing less than killing his parents. The screen with the name ‘Fus.h.i.+mi Saruhiko’ and the status 'calling’ showed no signs of changing to 'connected’, the ringing tone sounding futilely 10 times, which soon increased to 12 times.

“…f.u.c.k!” With a curse, Yata ended the call.

After he heard that Fus.h.i.+mi had stormed off, ditching the Blues, at the end of the year, Yata was worried despite himself, wondering just what had happened. After all, Fus.h.i.+mi was a comrade… no, Yata didn’t want to call him that, so an ally who they joined forces with and who fought the Green clan together with them. That’s why he tried calling Fus.h.i.+mi a few times. When he had free time on his hands, that is. Which he hadn’t had at all in the past month, if he was honest. And not once had Fus.h.i.+mi answered. The only time to date when he had was back when Anna was kidnapped by the Greens before awakening as the Red King and Yata requested Fus.h.i.+mi’s a.s.sistance to rescue her.

According to Kusanagi, this past month Fus.h.i.+mi hadn’t gotten in touch with the Blues either. Just when Yata was becoming seriously worried that Fus.h.i.+mi might have died by the roadside somewhere, Kusanagi, who had infiltrated a party organized by Jungle, returned with unbelievable news…

“He’s joined the Greens?! What the h.e.l.l that jerk is even thinking!” Yata violently punched the nearest concrete wall, not caring if he broke the PDA on his wrist. It was broad daylight, and he was in the downtown area at the time, and his action inevitably startled the pa.s.serbys.

’…Come chase after me if you can…’

So that was what those meaningful words Fus.h.i.+mi flung at Yata back at Mihas.h.i.+ra town implied. Fus.h.i.+mi was doubtlessly baiting Yata back then, intending to change clans from the start.

It went without saying that Yata had yet to forgive Fus.h.i.+mi for betraying him and Homura. But..

“Keh! So what if you betrayed the Blues now, too? Why the h.e.l.l should I be p.i.s.sed about it and go chase after you? I have no obligation to! Tell those baiting words to your workplace buddies and leave me out of it! I’m busy, G.o.ddammit, and have no time to play with you, jerk!”

With the Slate in their possession, Jungle had become more active than ever, wrecking havoc on Homura’s turf, among other places, so Yata had to run all around the s.h.i.+zume town to deal with it.

Despite his words, he felt restless and, cursing shortly and flipping up the standing skateboard with the tip of his sneaker, he rolled it down the sidewalk with violent energy. Stepping on the board, he was about to push off the ground when his PDA’s ringtone started playing.

“!” On a reflex, he raised his hand and answered the call without checking the caller’s name.

“Misaki?” The voice that called his name over the slight static noise of the line didn’t belong to the person Yata expected to hear. “Are you doing well? I told you to come visit us on New Year, didn’t I? What do I do with you…”
Yata’s hand lowered on its own a little as he whispered, “Ugh, mom…”
“What did you say? Did you just say "ugh” to me?“ a menacing voice came through immediately.
"N-No, I didn’t! S-Sorry, sorry, I’ve been really busy with my parttime job lately… actually, I’m working right now, too, so…” in a cracking voice, Yata made timid excuses to the PDA. If any of his Homura comrades saw him right now, he could almost imagine them grinning and teasing him about how weak his knees went in the face of his own mother.

Yata’s home wasn’t all that far away from the s.h.i.+zume town. He could visit it any time if he wanted. But since graduating from middle school and getting involved with Homura without going to high school - or, to be precise, since the winter of his third year of middle school when he decided to move out his parents’ home and into a rental room on the territory of the s.h.i.+zume town without consulting with his parents - he kept his contacts with his home to a minimum. His parents weren’t the overbearing type either, so they didn’t get in touch with Yata unless the business they had with him was important.

…Hm? That’s right, unless the business was important.

At first Yata tried to make excuses and end the call, but when this thought struck him, it made him worried.

“Did something happen?” he asked into the PDA.
“Um… well, it’s about Minoru… he’s been strange lately. You know, that "Jungle” that’s been all the rave lately… Minoru seems to be into it, too.“
"Minoru is? But he’s only a grade school kid!” Yata’s brows furrowed when he heard the name of the organization that was his clan’s enemy coming out of his mother’s mouth.
“He will start middle school this spring.”
“Eh… I see, now that you mentioned…”

Minoru was Yata’s little brother 8 years younger than him. Yata remembered him as a kid who only just started grade school, but now that he thought about it, indeed, time had pa.s.sed since then, and the kid had to grow up enough to be about to start middle school by now.

“He comes home late and gets into fights… I warn him every time it happens but he doesn’t listen to me at all lately. So I thought maybe he’ll be more open to talking about it with you, Misaki. I’m sorry to contact you only when I need your help…”

So it appeared that it wasn’t only the PDA’s fault that his mother’s voice, always so frank and cheerful, sounded downcast.

“Hah? What are you apologizing for? 'tis creeping me out. I get it, I get it, you can leave Minoru to me.” Yata made sure his voice sounded as light as possible and he even threw out his chest, despite the fact that his mother obviously couldn’t see it. Then, snorting a little to hide his embarra.s.sment, he added, “…Thank you. For asking me to help.”
“Misaki… Compared to how you were in the past, you seem more— No, never mind. Thank you. I’m counting on you then. And getting back to my first question: I trust you will visit us before this month is over?”

Yata was glad that cheerfulness was back in his mom’s voice, but it also meant that she was back to nagging him, so with a wince, he hurried to end the call, “Yeah, yeah. We’ll talk about it later.”

♦

For as long as he could remembered, Yata didn’t like his name, because it was a name usually reserved for girls.

Misaki, Minoru, Megumi[*]… Lately though, he felt he had begun to understand what common theme and feelings his mother put into the names of her children, despite the father changing halfway. But that didn’t mean that she had to give her eldest son a girly name, and Yata was still hung up about it.

His little brother Minoru was 12 now. And his little sister Megumi would turn 7 this year. The reason why the eldest and the second sons were as far as 8 years apart was because their mother remarried at one point between giving them birth.

Seeing that it was almost time for cla.s.ses to be over, Yata figured he could catch Minoru by his school. It turned out that he didn’t have to ride his skateboard as far as the school though, because while on his way there, he caught the sight of Minoru at the parking lot in front of a convenience store.

Minoru wasn’t alone. There also were 2 grade schoolers, shouldering backpacks, that looked the same age as him, and 3 boys wearing middle school uniforms.

Letting out a scream, Minoru barreled into one of the middle schoolers. He took after his older brother in that that he was a rather pet.i.te boy for a 6 grade elementary school student, so the middle schooler easily lifted him up, backpack and all, and sent him rolling across the parking lot to the accompaniment of a chorus of jeers.

“Minoru?!”

Revving up his skateboard, Yata sped up.

Minoru meanwhile got up and, crouching, with another cry launched himself headlong into the middle schooler.

Yata kicked the tail of his board to climb up to the curbstone, and from there made another jump to a higher trek. He rode the skateboard for so long that by now it was an extension of his own legs. Being a highly proficient rider, he could make the board stuck to the soles of his shoes at will. Yata made it just in time to catch Minoru, who had just been punched in the face and sent flying, with one hand, making a sharp turn and braking.

Planting one foot on the ground, he glared at the group Minoru was fighting.

“Wh-What’s your problem?!” the middle schoolers inquired angrily.
“Nii-chan…?!” Minoru exclaimed wide-eyed as he turned to look at his savior.

The other two grade schoolers huddled together, on the verge of tears. Yata didn’t need to ask anything to easily guess why 3 middle schoolers were bullying 3 grade kids.

Not taking his hand off Minoru’s shoulder, Yata said to the middle schoolers in a low voice, “I don’t wanna do something as lame as b.u.t.ting into a brats’ fight, but don’t ya think that 3 big guys like you picking on 1 grade kid is unfair?”
“None of your business! b.u.t.t out!”

The snotty middle schoolers that threw the arrogant threat at him, all held PDAs, and Yata caught the sight of the Jungle app on their screens. Now that the Green clan had gone public, the fact that one could obtain a “superpower” through collecting Jungle points and leveling up had become common knowledge even among ordinary users. They partic.i.p.ated in missions with full awareness, so now that Yata knew they were Jungle users, it was out of question to let them off easily on the excuse that they didn’t know anything.

“I wasn’t going to go all out against a bunch of middle school brats, but if you’re the Jungle clansmen, it changes everything, and I don’t have a reason to hold back now. You want power, don’t you? That means you’re prepared to pay the price for it, right? Well, I’m Homura’s Yatagarasu.”

One of the kids fiddled with his PDA. “Ah,” he let out in a small voice upon confirming something. On the screen, there was displayed the page with the bounty on Yata’s head that Kusanagi had showed him before (although Yata still had his grips about the difference between the bounty on his head and Fus.h.i.+mi’s).

“You’ll get 3,000 points if you can take me down, right? Whatcha gonna do? 'tis your chance to level up, no?” Yata laughed in their faces making as nasty face as he could manage.

Focusing his thoughts on the mark engraved near his left shoulder he willed his power to ama.s.s, and his whole body took on a red glow. He took a step forward and the asphalt beneath his feet sizzled, emitting burnt-smelling smoke.

The two grade schoolers with contorted faces cried out and broke into a run every which way.

“Wh-What are we gonna do?”
“D-Don’t ask me, this is bad, he’s the friggin real deal…” the middle schoolers paled, exchanging looks.
“Nii-chan—”

All Yata’s little brother could do was stare in mute amazement from upclose at the light radiating from Yata.

♦

Yata heard out Minoru’s explanations while taking him home.

“I’m not involved with Jungle right now. And when I tried to persuade my friends from my cla.s.s to quit, too, those guys showed up and started threatening us, like "do you think you can just up and get out of it, brats”… they said that we gotta help them earn points if we wanted out because such is Jungle’s practice…“
"There’s no such practice in Jungle. And even if there was, there’s no way in h.e.l.l small fry like those jerks could have any authority over it. They just wanted to use you guys to collect points for them so they could level up.”
“Yup, I know that. But my friends got scared and decided to do as they’re told, so I tried to protect them…”

Minoru hung his head and pressed his hand to the bruise now adorning the side of his mouth. His shoulders, supporting the weight of his backpack, shook.

Yata, who was walking by his side with the skateboard under his arm, stopped. “Minoru.”

Just when Yata was about to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, the boy wiped his eyes and raised his head. “I’m fine. This is nothing. You, too, always got into fights in the past, didn’t you, nii-chan. And every time you came back home covered in bruises and scratches, mom would get angry with you,” face clearing up, Minoru said with a smile.

'For something that was so long ago, the kid sure observed me closely, heh…’ Yata pouted, feeling a mixture of embarra.s.sment and awkwardness.

Their mother was worried that Minoru was involved with Jungle, but the situation appeared to be the opposite. It wasn’t that Minoru himself was tangled with Jungle, but that he tried to help quit those of his friends who had been.

“Tell mom everything like you told me to ease her worries, okay? In any case, I’m glad you’re not involved with Jungle.”
“Yeah. But if Saru hadn’t told me to quit, I would’ve still been.”

When Yata heard that, the skateboard suddenly slipped from under his arm. The tail end of it hit the asphalt with a resounding thud, and Minoru’s shoulders jumped in surprise.

“Saruhiko did?! What did he…?!”
“Huh? You didn’t know, nii-chan? I thought you came here because you knew… Saru sent a message to my account from his. It only said that I should quit immediately and uninstall the app if I know what’s good for me, and nothing else. I replied to the message, asking him what he meant, but got no response. Still, since it was Saru who was warning me, I thought I should take it seriously because it probably meant that something bad was going on, so I decided to do as he said and quit.”
“What was that?”
“Ummm, during the winter break.”
“Can you still get in touch with him?”
“I deleted the app along with all the logs, so I don’t know Saru’s account anymore.”

That message was sent during grade school’s winter break, that is, after Fus.h.i.+mi had disappeared from Scepter 4. By the time, he had already changed his allegiances and joined the Green clan, apparently. Which meant he bothered to find Minoru’s account and message him even after that, huh? But why would a Jungle member go through the trouble to give Minoru that warning…?

“Just what the h.e.l.l is he thinking, geez… I’ve no slightest idea with him…” Yata glared at the fallen skateboard and shook his fist.

The setting sun cast two long shadows, his brother and his own, on the ground beneath. It was then that he noticed the feet in casual kitchen sandals planted on the ground a little further from where the shadows’ elongated heads ended.

“Oops,” Minoru whispered, and in no time at all a stern voice answered, “What "oops”? I can hear you, you know.“
"Your ears are way too sharp,” Minoru grumbled.
“Minoru, you got into a fight again, didn’t you?”

The bruise by the side of his mouth didn’t go unnoticed by those sharp eyes, and Minoru hurried to hide behind Yata’s back.

Their mother, her arms folded across her chest, despite the sandals and ap.r.o.n, figuratively towered over them like a wrath-filled guardian of the Buddha. Her form, bathed in the red light of the setting sun that made it seem like she emitted the aura of fire despite not being a red clansman, intimidated even Yata a little.

Yata only was going to drop Minoru off somewhere not far from home, and he couldn’t even imagine that their mother would wait them outside that far from home… Not before Yata thought that that his mother’s gaze zeroed in on him, as if those unfairly sharp ears of hers allowed her to hear people’s thoughts.

“Ugh,” Yata’s face contorted as he flinched.

After letting out a long sigh, his mother’s pursed lips finally relaxed. “…Welcome back, my foolish sons. You boys must be hungry.”

She used plural, treating her eldest no different than her younger son, despite said eldest hardly ever showing his face home in the past 5 years. Yata found himself hard-pressed for an answer as his heart throbbed from the emotions a.s.saulting him.

Minoru nervously peeked from behind Yata’s back. “I’m sorry… mom…”
“We’re having fried chicken for dinner. I fried a lot for both of you. Now, come on, let’s go home. Megumi is waiting.”
“Ah, sorry but… I have no time to stay and eat with you. I’m really busy these day, and right now there’s a lot of things waiting to be done, and I can’t make time for anything else, and…”

His mother who had already started walking towards their home, stopped and turned. Yata’s sentence died away unfinished, and he averted his eyes despite himself.

He never told anything concrete about what he was doing and who he was a.s.sociating with to his parents. Homura was more or less a street gang, after all. So Yata only mentioned that he was working parttime jobs. His parents never tried to dig any deeper, but they probably didn’t believe him in the slightest either. Looking at it from the outside perspective - no, not just from the outside perspective - he was pretty much a delinquent who ditched home the moment he had graduated from middle school. This neighborhood was a decent middle cla.s.s residential district. Yata didn’t know what the local residents said about him, but he was sure it was nothing pretty.

“Eeh? You’re not coming back with us, nii-chan? I really want you to come! When she learns that I got to see you while she didn’t, Megumi will throw a tantrum.”

Minoru grabbed his clothes and begged him, but Yata couldn’t possibly cave, although it did cost him a lot.

“Sorry… But right now, I really can’t…”

Anna had sensed that the Slate would be “freed” - that is, would go completely out of control - any moment now. Yata couldn’t allow himself to be the only one happily enjoying dinner with his family away from the s.h.i.+zume town at an explosive time like that.

“…Minoru. Come here.”

Minoru still hesitated, but their mother took him by the hand. “Once you’re done with all those things waiting to be done, you will visit us, won’t you? And then, you will play with your sister and brother to their heart’s content. Promise me.”
“Yeah… I promise.”
“And don’t forget to bring Saruhiko-kun, too.”
“Hah?!” Yata’s voice cracked into falsetto when his mother suddenly added that condition.

Minoru, who looked on the verge of tears after Yata had refused to have dinner with them, livened up, face clearing, “Really?! If Saru’s coming, too, I’ll bear with you not coming with us this time, and I’ll make Megumi bear with it, too! Nii-chan, make sure you bring Saru with you next time~”
“Ah, no, he… there’s no way he’ll come…” Yata’s voice trembled.

Inside him, anger flared up. His mother and his brother still whole-heartedly considered Fus.h.i.+mi Yata’s friend, like 5 years ago. They had so much faith in Fus.h.i.+mi that they wouldn’t believe it if they were ever told that he was a guy who had easily betrayed his place to belong and his comrades, twice at that. And yet, Fus.h.i.+mi went and trampled all over that trust Yata’s mother and brother put in him—

Yata’s hands clenched into fists without him realizing.

“Aah, I get it. You got into a fight with Saru, yes, nii-chan?” Minoru asked with an innocent face.
“Oh, is that so? I bet it was your fault.” His mother shrugged her shoulders as if to say “good grief, what do I do with you”, and Yata just couldn’t stay quiet at that, “Why is it automatically my fault?! I’ve been calling him like forever, but he’s the one who just keeps ignoring me! And things that happened ain’t so simple as to call them just a f-fight… a lot of s.h.i.+t happened, actually…”
“But you’re the one calling him, right? I see. In that case, just keep going, and sooner or later, Saruhiko-kun will run out of patience and answer.”

When she so confidently said that to him, in that fed-up tone she would use when scolding him for a falling out with a cla.s.smate over a completely stupid reason - and to his mother that was likely how his relations.h.i.+p with Fus.h.i.+mi looked - Yata just stared at her, finding himself speechless.

“Good gracious, you were always like that, I swear. Foolish, unruly and forgetting to do your homework on a daily basis. And always getting into fights, too; I lost count to how many times I had to go apologize to your teachers and the parents of the kids you beat up…”
“Well, sorry for being such a bad son…”
“But you know…” When his mother’s voice sounded again, as she continued despite complaining not a moment earlier, Yata got confused.

Her eyes, probably resembling Yata’s own a little, with strong the yet warm light dwelling in them, were fixed right on him in a straight stare. “I believe that my son is not a person who wouldn’t understand what he must do for a friend. I can say this with confidence, as your mother. So fix things with Saruhiko-kun as soon as possibly and bring him along to visit us.”

In the winter 5 years ago, when he had decided to room with Fus.h.i.+mi and left home, his mother, who would always nag and correct Yata’s mistakes, said nothing. Fus.h.i.+mi hated his home, while to Yata, that household always looked extremely weird and incomprehensible. It appeared that Yata’s mother had guessed that he was doing it in order to save Fus.h.i.+mi from that house. It wasn’t like she explicitly saw him off, but when Yata was secretly carrying out his things, she pretended not to notice, busying herself with tending to Megumi.

Some kind of rush was bubbling up in the pit of Yata’s stomach. The impulse to do something this very instance abruptly surged inside him, making him restless.

s.h.i.+fting from one foot to another impatiently, Yata said, “I can’t promise to bring h-him with me, but I’ll visit you soon. And take my time to play with Megumi. At the moment, we have a s.h.i.+tty situation on our hands, but once we’ve dealt with it, I’ll make sure come visit.”
“OK. We will be waiting,” his mother nodded with a smile, and Yata nodded back, then turned around and energeically pushed the skateboard to roll forward.

“Nii-chan, you promised! And bring Saru with you!”
“Let’s go home, Minoru. It can’t be helped that he can’t stay tonight, so I should probably put that extra chicken we’ll have left into your dad’s bento tomorrow.”

Listening to his mother and little brother parting comments behind him, Yata caught up to the rolling skateboard and jumped on it lightly.

♦

Wheels rolling along the asphalt noisily, Yata stopped his skateboard in front of a certain multi-purpose building. Picking up the skateboard to hold it under his arm, Yata came to stand before a cracked door with a notification about looking for tenants pinned to it. It wasn’t locked, probably due to the building management being too careless.

Slightly out of breath as he stepped inside, Yata gave the room a once-over. It was completely chilled in the dim light of the January sunset. A dreary apartment surrounded by concrete walls that wasn’t supposed to be used as a living s.p.a.ce to begin with. No sign that people ever lived here could be sensed in that vacant room, long devoid of all the furniture. Any hint of the life the two boys lived here on their own that should have been engraved into this s.p.a.ce, had been sucked up by these cold walls without a trace. The room had a mezzanine loft, but Yata found no ladder to allow him to climb up there. Straining his eyes to check it yielded nothing either: the loft was empty.

On a sudden epiphany where he might find Fus.h.i.+mi, Yata came all the way here, but…

“There’s no way he’d be here, is there…”

This was the room the two of them lived in for approximately 2 years, from the winter of their 3rd year of middle school and till the moment when Fus.h.i.+mi suddenly quit Homura and made a ridiculous declaration that he was moving into Scepter 4’s dorm. Back in the period when they both were in Homura, they hung out either in this room and in bar HOMRA pretty much 24/7.

Yata highly doubted that Fus.h.i.+mi had anywhere else to go now that he had run off from Scepter 4. Except as it turned out, he was already a Green clan member. At the thought that by now Fus.h.i.+mi must have been leisurely spending his time in comfort at the Greens’ hideout somewhere, Yata’s irritation came back full force again.

“f.u.c.k!” With a curse, he was about to turn on his heels and leave, but suddenly stopped and, lifting up his left hand, glared at the PDA on his left wrist.

In the room that was being slowly engulfed in bluish dusk, with the light streaming from a window that was so tiny that it was barely there weakening by the minute, a holographic screen appeared. Yata pulled up the contact log page, where his last outgoing calls were displayed.

He sighed quietly. His breathing had already returned to normal by now.

'I believe that my son is not a person who wouldn’t understand what he must do for a friend,’ his mother’s voice, strong but gentle, repeated in his mind.

One last try.

Having decided that, Yata touched the call icon.