title: of the mind
fandom: K project
characters/pairings: Awashima, Yata/Fushimi (implied), Akiyama/Fushimi, Kusanagi, Anna
rating: G/Teen
warnings: angst, ominous ending
summary: Something terrible has happened...
notes: i had intended on writing more about Fushimi and Akiyama before writing this, but then suddenly i really wanted to write this... so...

Awashima could no longer watch. The Gold King's doctor discreetly left the room, and everyone else was... quiet. Fussing. Nervous. Akiyama was sitting at the bedside, as still as stone. And the Captain...

Awashima could no longer just sit there and do nothing. She wasn't made for that! She stood up, straightening her jacket and smoothing it down. A few watched her, but she couldn't meet anyone's eyes. She turned on her heel and headed for the door, but she paused briefly. The Captain was standing near the door. He did not so much nod as he lowered his chin and closed his eyes.

That was enough.

She made her way out.

It was less than twenty minutes later that she was standing in front of Bar Homra. She... she hadn't been here since... She took a deep breath, and decided not to think about that. It wasn't like she owed anyone in there anything. And... if he'd... he could have called... She was actually fairly sure he wouldn't want to see her. It was her King who... but he knew that was going to happen. And.

It wasn't about that now, though.

She opened the door, steeling her features, and she went in.

If things had gone according to her version of ideal, he would be the only one there. After all, it was early in the day, and... and it wasn't as if... Not even that silly fool Totsuka was... But, no, it was like the bulk of the core of the former Red Clan had agreed to meet. On the couch, like a princess, sat the girl, Anna. And he, that was to say, Kusanagi, was behind the bar, looking...

Well, he looked like hell.

Most importantly, Yata Misaki was sitting at the bar with a rather attractive blond man.

"What the fuck do you want, bitch?" someone called out.

Awashima straightened her shoulders. "I apologize for the intrusion..." she started.

Yata wasn't interested in what she had to say. Not yet. "'Stead of apologizing, getcher blue ass out the door, woman," he spat at her. That garnered a few cheers.

Anna leaned forward, her eyes widening. Such... such a precious child... but, no, she wasn't truly a child, was she, not after all she'd been through.

Kusanagi cleared his throat, and everyone piped down. "Look, if the boy's've been causin' trouble..." he started.

He sounded drunk. "Once again, I apologize for the intrusion. This isn't... about any trouble. I didn't come here... because of trouble. I just... I realize that, all things considered, this may or may not be of any interest to anyone, but just in case it is of interest..."

Kusanagi laughed. Harshly. "'Snot like you to beat 'round the bush. Just get to it. What's up?"

She nodded. All right. There was no easy way to say this. "Fushimi-kun... is dying."

Anna stood up. Everyone looked at each other. Some people clearly didn't know who Fushimi-kun was, nor did they seem to care. Some actually grinned to each other.

Yata stood up and threw his glass at her, but she deflected it easily. "What the fuck, you bitch! Is that supposed to be a goddamned freakin' joke?!"

"I'm sorry, it's not..." she shook her head slowly.

"I knew it," Anna whispered.

"Shut up, bitch! What the hell kinda shit are you comin' in here spoutin'...!" Yata screamed.

"YATA!" Kusanagi silenced the boy. He sighed, and took a drag on his cigarette. "Fushimi... hard to imagine that kid dyin'. What happened?"

She blinked a few times, looking at Kusanagi. Her... her chest ached a bit, though she wasn't sure why. Of course, a colleague, and in some regards a friend, was dying... "We were investigating a report of a strain. A young girl who was capable of inducing illness in people around her."

"Buttin' yer blue asses in where no one wants you again, huh?" Yata spat at her.

"This child, only eleven, had accidentally killed her own parents, and her landlord. We were called in because no one could get close. Her powers... had gone out of control, and she was losing her mind. We had her surrounded, but she had a... an aura of plague around her. No one could get close. Only... only Fushimi-kun managed to break through to get to her."

Yata narrowed his eyes. "Someone so dangerous... and you send in your underlings. That's how you blues work, huh?"

"Fushimi-kun was able to break through due to use of his red and blue auras," she explained, sighing. He'd broken through, yes, and he'd managed to calm the girl down. The little bastard could be charming on the rare occasions he chose to be. But. "Unfortunately, he was accidentally touched by the girl, and... and he fell ill."

"And your precious King," Yata snarled. "I guess while he was riskin' his life and all, the almighty Blue King was, what? Doing paperwork? Sipping tea?"

Awashima's face nearly crumpled, but she held it together. "I failed to call in for assistance. It was my fault."

"Che, remember that for the rest of your life, bitch," Yata snarled.

"I will," Awashima nodded seriously. "But time is short. The girl... she doesn't know how to stop an illness once it is contracted. The Gold Clan sent their King's personal doctor... but he said there was nothing he could do. The illness is psychosomatic..."

"Eh?" Yata reared back.

"The strain uses psychic energy to fool the brain into thinking the body is ill. The Gold King's doctor did everything he could, but... but Fushimi-kun's fever continues to rise, and... according to the doctor... it's... it's about Fushimi-kun's... will to live..." Awashima looked down at the floor. She took a deep breath. "His fever is already perilously high. There's not much time left. Fushimi-kun... isn't awake, but if you wanted to see him before he dies, he's at headquarters..."

"Goddamnit!" Yata screamed to the ceiling, and then he grabbed his board and took off.

Awashima felt tiny and stupid after he was gone. She took a step forward, looking at Kusanagi. "I'm sorry, I know... I know he... betrayed you all, and after everything..."

"Thanks for stopping by," Kusanagi cut her off, clearly inviting her to leave.

Her shoulders slumped.

"Right. Th-thank you... and... I'm... sorry." She turned to leave.

A small hand touched her wrist. She looked down at Anna. Her large, serious eyes looked up at Awashima. "Don't worry. Saruhiko can never leave Misaki alone."

She smiled at the girl, and brushed her bangs out of those huge eyes. "I hope so."





Yata burst into Scepter 4's headquarters, and then stopped abruptly. ...He had no fuckin' clue where he was supposed to go! And the blues all over the damned lobby or whatever were givin' him looks, and... Yata ground his teeth together. He should just... what? Ask nicely? But...

A door at the end of the lobby opened with a sharp noise, and every blue stood at attention. A booming, resonating voice cut through the room.

"You. Escort our guest to the infirmary. He's here to see Fushimi-kun."

The person nearest to Yata stumbled, and then quickly saluted. "Yessir!"

"Che!" Yata made quickly for the door, and the fuckin' Blue King. The blue guy hurried to keep up. When he got to the door, he stopped, causing the blue to nearly plow him down. He looked up at Munakata, sneering. "Mikoto-san woulda died himself before letting one of his own take the fall."

"That's true," the Blue King nodded slowly. "I believe that's why he's dead now. Ah, but please don't look down on me for not living up to Suoh's self-sacrificing model. He was much stronger than I am, after all."

Yata didn't like the fucker's tone, and he didn't like even talking to the bastard considering he lived and Mikoto-san... He brushed past the King, but before long, he had to let the blue punk get ahead of him to show him where to go.

So fuckin' annoying!

Finally, they reached a room, and the blue guy opened the door for him, stammering something, but Yata just blew past him and went in to find... to find...

Yata stopped short. He'd seen Fushimi... in a lot of positions over the years. He'd seen him in different kinds of clothes, and different moods... They'd been partners, and best friends.

He'd never seen Fushimi looking so... frail. So pale, clammy, so... weak. He wasn't wearing his glasses, of course, because he was in bed. Like always, when he wasn't wearing glasses, his face looked so different. Almost girly.

Yata.. felt cold right in the center of his belly.

"Ah... Yata-san, right? They have him on fluids and the bed is trying to cool his body, but..." the blue, the only blue, sitting at Fushimi's bedside started to explain.

Yata didn't have time for that kinda shit. That bitch said this was all in Fushimi's damned stupid head, right? Yata climbed on top of Fushimi, and grabbed him by the neck. "Bastard Monkey! Asshole! What the fuck! Get up! Get up, you goddamned moron! What the fuck are you doing, just lyin' here like a damned punk! Hey! Aren't you supposed to be better'n all this shit?!"

"Ah, Yata-san!" the blue got up, putting a hand on Yata's shoulder.

Yata turned bright red... a glowing red enveloping his body. He glared at the blue, pushing him back with his aura. He snarled at the jerk like a damned dog protecting his bone.

The blue staggered back into his chair, hissing a bit from the heat of Yata's aura.

Yata turned his attention back to Fushimi. "Saru! That big-boobed bitch said this was all in your fuckin' head! You always spent too damned much time thinkin'! Now's not the time for that crap! Wake up! Open yer fuckin' eyes! Hey! Hey!!"

Despair started to wrap around Yata. Fushimi... might as well as already been dead. He wasn't reacting at all, no matter how much he shook him or yelled, Fushimi didn't even flinch.

Yata frantically looked around. There was weird medical equipment, like in the movies. There was beeping and humming... it looked like Fushimi was still alive. But.

He looked at Fushimi's face. And.

Yata pulled him up, hugging Fushimi tightly. This wasn't damned fucking fair! After everything, after losing Totsuka... and Mikoto-san... and Fushimi was a traitor, anyway! Why should he have to worry about Fushimi dying! Except...

"You asshole!" Yata cried onto Fushimi's shoulder. "We never finished our fight! I'm the one who's going to kill you! I can't believe you'd wuss out on me like this. You're always lettin' me down. Bastard. Asshole. I hate you. C'mon... Saru... don't... don't leave me like this! Fucking..."

"Hey..." the blue beside the bed interjected shakily. "I don't think you should... I mean, he's got an IV in and..."

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" Yata snarled, looking at the guy. Half the bastard's face was hidden behind carefully swooped hair. What a damned dandy. Fushimi and he used to make fun of pretty boys like this one back in the day! "Who the hell asked you?! Who do you think you are, anyway?"

The blue narrowed his one eye, and straightened a bit. "I'm his teammate and friend. I've been with him all this time."

Yata had to laugh at the fucker. He sounded so earnest. It was hilarious! "Oh, shit, you're in love with him, aren't you? Been with him all this time," Yata mocked, laughing harder. And clinging to Fushimi harder. "Eh, I know who you are now. You're just the slut he's been fucking. Don't go thinkin' that makes you special or somethin'. For some reason, this guy's never had trouble finding people who want him to fuck 'em. Even back in middle school... after his father died... more often than not, he'd spend the night with some bitch or something. Just because he puts his dick in you, don't go thinking he likes you or anything. This guy is fuckin' twisted. He doesn't like anyone," Yata fiercely declared.

The pretty boy glared at him, his hands in fists at his sides. "...Except for you? Right? You're the only person he likes? Except... he betrayed you. So... maybe being liked by him isn't such a great thing, after all."

"You asshole..." Yata snarled, letting go of Fushimi enough that his limp body slid back down. "You tryin' to start something with me?"

"No," the pretty boy said calmly. "I'm trying to make sure that the medicine the doctor set up will still get to Fushimi-san." He pointed at the IV in Fushimi's arm. "And that there is no disruption to his care."

"Yeah, but the medicine doesn't matter, right? 'Cause the sickness is in his head," Yata glared at Fushimi. "Gettin' taken down like that... you should be ashamed to die this way, fuckin' Monkey!" Yata shouted at Fushimi.

The blue sighed. "The medicine is treating his symptoms, hopefully buying him more time... so he can..." And then the pansy-boy got all choked up.

Yata looked down at the IV and at Fushimi's pale, skinny body. Ah, so... Reluctantly, Yata shifted his weight around and slid off the bed. He grabbed Fushimi's hand. "Asshole. Don't die on me! Not like this, you damned fool!"

The blue sighed, and sat back. Yata squeezed Fushimi's hand, and just... he couldn't help it, he kept talking. After a while, he didn't even know what was coming out of his mouth. He was talking about Totsuka, about middle school... about the first time they met. About how Yata could clearly kick Fushimi's ass, so he understood why Fushimi wanted to chicken out but this wasn't the way. About Anna. About Kusanagi. Anything that went through Yata's head, it came out his mouth. And somehow, his face was getting wet, too. Yata didn't mind about that. Must be the damned blues building, leakin' or something.

He didn't know how long it had been, but eventually, a doctor came in with the boobs bitch. Yata had to stand aside so the doctor could look at Fushimi. After a minute, he straightened up, and looked at the bitch.

"His fever has stabilized," he said.

"That's good, right?" boobs leaned forward, excited.

"Well, it's not bad," the doctor looked back at Fushimi. "But his brainwaves haven't altered. At this point, it's almost impossible for there not to be brain damage from the prolonged fever. Plus, his organs have basically been cooking... whether this means he might recover, I still can't say."

Yata balled his hands at his sides. Just... just... what good was a damned doctor, anyway!? Wasn't there, like... some kind of strain that could save Fushimi!? Shouldn't the blues know about that shit?!

"I... see, doctor, thank you. It's getting late. Can I offer you some dinner at our canteen?"

The doctor bowed to Awashima. "Thank you, I'd appreciate that."

"Yata-kun, would you like to join us?"

"Hmph," he narrowed his eyes, looking away from her. "I don't need anything."

She sighed softly. "At least... get some coffee. If anything happens, Akiyama-kun will alert us."

Yata glared at the pretty boy, who was nodding to the boobs bitch. He snarled a bit, and then stood up. "Fine, I'll get some coffee."

He waited for the boobs bitch and the doctor to leave first, and then stalked behind them, hands shoved in his pockets, glaring at anyone who chose to look at him. This was all so fucked up, anyway! Why the fuck did he have to care if Fushimi died, anyway?! The fucker was a traitor! He'd kill the bastard himself if he could! Maybe he should! Instead of letting him... just... fade away...

...But Fushimi wouldn't even know. He was going to die... because he was saving some girl whose powers were out of control? That was absurd! That wasn't like Saruhiko at all! Like he gave a fuck about anyone!

He should have stayed with Homra. He should have stayed with Yata. Back then, they always had each other's backs! Yata wouldn't have let Fushimi get sick from some girl! They always protected each other! They'd been perfect partners... and Yata still didn't understand why it all ended. Why Saruhiko left him. Left them all! Yata wasn't sure he ever fully understood Saruhiko. Except... he never had to. The two of them...

They just belonged together! Like... meant to be! Just like... like... Mikoto-san and Totsuka-san. They didn't make any sense, either, and no one really understood Totsuka-san, but the two of them... it was just like Yata and Saruhiko! Totsuka-san even liked Saruhiko. He always made Yata feel better about things... after Saruhiko left. And now Saruhiko was dying and Totsuka-san was already dead...

"Yata-san? Do you... would you like to use a restroom?"

"What the fuck, bitch?" Yata tried to glare at the boobs bitch, but everything was blurry. That was... what the fuck was wrong with his eyes?!? "Che!" Yata stormed past the boobs bitch, and... shit, he had no idea where he was. What the fuck kinda building was this, anyway?! Why did those damned blues need such a fucking big place?! Yata found an unlocked door, so he just went in... looked like some kinda supply room or something, but it didn't matter. He leaned against a file cabinet, and rubbed his face. But.

He just cried and cried. This was stupid! He hated himself for these stupid tears, but what the fuck was he supposed to do!? It wasn't like Mikoto-san dying! It wasn't like Totsuka-san dying! This was Saru! A damned traitor monkey!

The fucking tears wouldn't stop! Yata just... gave up. He crouched down and sobbed into his hands. If he just got it all out... maybe...

Saruhiko was in another room, on a bed. Pale, skinny, clammy, unresponsive... The doc said that his fever wasn't rising, but his brain was already cooked, right? And maybe his body just couldn't get any hotter.

...

Saruhiko was a fucking moron! Going off, saving some chick and dying like this... Nothing was resolved between them! How could he let it all end like this? Saruhiko... he never cared about Yata the way Yata cared about him, did he? He was able to hold Mikoto-san's hand and become a member of Homra... but then he was able to leave, too! How the fuck was that possible!?

No, Yata still had to believe... Saruhiko belonged with Homra, belonged with... belonged with Yata! They were partners, right? That was... that was...

That was what was right!

Finally able to control the damed tears, Yata wiped his face clean with the bottom of his shirt. He stood up, and brushed himself off. Getting weepy and emotional over stupid Saru... that was too embarrassing! Good thing no one important was around to see him! Just those fucking blues. Who the hell cared about them?

He went back to the hallway, and with only a little bit of trouble he found the canteen and the boobs bitch. He got himself a cup of coffee, though... well, he didn't normally drink coffee, but. It was fine, whatever. He sat where he could see the boobs bitch, but not anywhere near her. He hated that bitch. Coming into Homra... talking about Saru... ignoring Kusanagi-san for all that time... serving that damned Blue King...

There was a ping on the intercom system. Damn, these fuckin' blues lived like they were in fuckin' high school, didn't they?! How did Saru really think he belonged with these bastards?!

"Infirmary to Doctor... please report to the infirmary. Repeat, Doctor, please report to the infirmary..."

Yata jumped up and took off running. He remembered well enough how to get back, plus that one time he made a wrong turn, the boobs bitch yelled out to him. He threw the door open to the infirmary...

The pretty boy was standing next to Fushimi, holding onto him... Fushimi...

Fushimi was sitting up.

The doctor brushed past him, and went to see to Fushimi. He let the pretty boy stay near him, going to Fushimi's other side. Yata didn't really understand what he was saying, but it seemed Fushimi's fever was gone, and his numbers were ok. And.

Fushimi's eyes were open. He wasn't really looking at anything, but... his eyes were open.

It was like a string was cut inside of Yata. And he'd been crying over this bastard! How fuckin' stupid! He turned, and saw the boobs bitch looking like an actual woman, and not some goddamned robot. "He's going to be all right," she said under her breath, and Yata wasn't even sure she was talking to him.

"Che, 'course he wouldn't die over something so stupid," he scoffed, and then he left.

He didn't belong there. And neither did Saruhiko.





Akiyama was fussing. He knew it, and he was trying to control himself, but he was excited. After a week in the infirmary, Fushimi-san was going back to his own room. Akiyama had been allowed to spend the bulk of the week tending to his superior by virtue of his training in emergency medicine. And the fact that there had been no major missions ongoing. Still, he'd been grateful.

Though, he wasn't going to think about why he felt that way.

"My uniform is different than yours," Fushimi-san looked down at himself, frowning slightly.

"Everything about you is a little different than anyone else," Akiyama said, trying to be comforting, but he couldn't help smiling. "I suppose that's why you're third in command."

Fushimi-san frowned, and looked up at Akiyama. Fushimi-san's memory... was foggy. Actually, the lack of severe or debilitating brain damage was probably entirely due to the Gold King's doctor. Some memory loss was a blessing compared to losing motor control, most likely. But, it was strange to see Fushimi-san looking meek, innocent... tentative. Still, his memory loss might not be permanent, the doctor said, and even if it was... Fushimi-san was Fushimi-san, so his personality would re-emerge. Probably.

Fushimi-san stood up properly, and looked himself over. He sighed quietly. "I still feel strange. I can't tell if I feel like myself or not."

His voice was gentle, quiet. It was so unlike Fushimi-san, but. Fushimi-san was Fushimi-san. "Don't worry," Akiyama touched Fushimi-san's arm. "Just give it time."

Fushimi-san nodded at him docilely.

A little shaken, Akiyama straightened up. "Do you feel steady on your feet or...?" he sort of half offered his arm, thinking of how Fushimi-san would have jeered at him in the past.

This time, though, Fushimi-san latched onto him.

Akiyama led Fushimi-san out of the infirmary and toward the dorms. Fushimi-san leaned on him just a bit. "Are we... roommates?" Fushimi-san murmured.

"Right now, you'll be on your own. Ah, but there's an intercom right next to the bed, so."

"Mm," Fushimi-san leaned against him, brushing his cheek against Akiyama's shoulder.

Akiyama tried hard not to blush, and he tried not to look at any of their coworkers as they passed by. He finally got Fushimi-san to his assigned room, and then he showed Fushimi-san around, but Fushimi-san wasn't really paying attention. He looked a bit like a child, looking around only partially interested in what he was seeing. Akiyama ran out of things to say, and he was about to leave Fushimi-san on his own, but then Fushimi-san faced him.

"We're lovers, right?"

Akiyama felt a bit blown back. He stammered a bit, looking away. "Ah, well, that is, I mean, we... we... we've kinda of... done those sort of things, anyway." The idea of Fushimi-san calling them lovers...! The old Fushimi-san would mock him terribly if he heard that! Lovers? What the fuck kind of romantic bullshit are you spouting off? Have you actually become a twelve year old girl? I don't mind fucking you, just like any other slut, but don't get a big head about it. And it wasn't even like Akiyama was in love with Fushimi-san or anything! Not... not really... it was just...

He was drawn to Fushimi-san, but even the Captain appeared to be drawn to him, so...!

Fushimi-san seemed oblivious to Akiyama's embarrassment. "I thought so... I can't really remember... anything... but... I felt like. There was someone calling to me."

Akiyama's head shot up and his body went rigid.

"Like, I was in some dark place... and I was sinking or something? And then I heard a voice. And. I found my way up." Fushimi-san looked at Akiyama, and for a moment, he looked like himself, his gaze sharp and piercing. "And when I woke up, you were the one at my side. It was you, right? ...Himori?"

Akiyama's eyes widened, and his throat went dry. No... this was... It was that Yata person, not him!

But, he was too stunned to make a sound.

Fushimi-san smiled just slightly, and stepped closer to Akiyama. "I knew it. It was you. So." He stepped closer, and slipped one arm around Akiyama's waist, and one arm around his shoulders. He pulled Akiyama close, and then they were kissing.

And Akiyama's mind went blank. No matter how cold or harsh he was, Fushimi-san was also an amazingly talented lover. So, Akiyama couldn't help himself. His body acted on its own, on instinct. He wrapped his arms around Fushimi-san and pulled him close, and he... he was reacting... Fushimi-san's fingers were massaging his neck as his tongue probed Akiyama's mouth. It was just.

It was so damned hot.

The kiss broke off, and Fushimi-san ran his nose against Akiyama's nose. "That... felt familar..." and then he smiled wickedly, and that was definitely Fushimi-san's smile. "I feel so many weird things inside of me, like... there's all these things... churning and I can't... I can't get my footing, but. This feels familiar, and that's... such a relief." He pulled back, grinning. He held out his hands, and suddenly, his right hand glowed red. Just a moment later, his left hand glowed blue. "I mean... what the hell is this? We're like... superheroes or something."

"Something like that, yeah," Akiyama laughed. He slipped in close to Fushimi-san's left side. "Like I said, just give it time. I can help you with all this... churning. Just be careful with that red," he laughed. "It's actually as hot as it looks."

Fushimi-san held up his red hand, looking at it in wonder. And then he dispersed his red aura. He grinned at Akiyama. "Don't want to burn you," he murmured.

Sexily.

They were kissing again, and Akiyama wasn't sure if he should push Fushimi-san down onto the bed or not, but he knew... he knew...

He had to... clear up Fushimi-san's mistake, it wasn't him that...

But then, Fushimi-san broke the kiss and hugged Akiyama closely, clinging to him like... like...

Like no one had ever clung to Akiyama before in his life.

"You'll stay with me, then, right?" Fushimi-san breathily asked.

Akiyama's knees went weak. But. What could he say? He had no choice, right? This... this was what Fushimi-san wanted, so...

"Of course. Of course, I won't leave you."








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