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When Yata’s ears and cheeks turn as red as his hair, it can mean one of two things: either he’s really pissed, or really embarrassed. Today, it was the first.
“Yata-chan, try to calm down,” Kusanagi pleads, slowly growing frustrated at the continuous string of curses that had been filling his ears for the past hour.
“It’s unfair, Kusanagi-san!” Yata shouts for what seems to be the one hundredth time that afternoon. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to do anything with that damn monkey!” He hammers his fist down on the table, startling one of his fellow clan members.
Kusanagi feels stripped of his soul with each dent Yata makes in his precious bar.
"I'M NOT HELPING WITH THAT PARTY!" Yata yells even louder, when nobody says anything, only increasing his rapidly growing frustration.
“You have to. You two are the only ones who aren’t busy this weekend." Kusanagi sighs with a surprisingly calm tone, setting down the wine glass he had just finished cleaning delicately. "Christmas is in two days, can’t you lighten up?”
Before Yata can shout again, he’s held back as a small hand grabs the sleeve of the hoodie tied around his waist. He looks down and sees HOMRA’s youngest member, Anna, looking at him with her eyes shining under the dim light hanging above them.
"Please, Misaki," she says softly, tightening her grip. "It won't be as bad as you think it'll be."
"But...A-Anna..." Misaki begins, before biting his lip; he knows he can't argue with her. Taking a deep breath, he looks away, staring at a streak on the floor created by his board a few days ago.
"It's our first Christmas with SCEPTER 4. Let's try to enjoy it, yeah?" Chitose brings up, holding his hands out in front of his face in case Yata decides to punch him.
But he doesn't. Instead, he shifts his gaze to Chitose for a split second before turning around, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't get why we have to celebrate with them just because..." he trails off, not knowing how to finish that statement.
"You can do it, Yata-san," Kamamoto says, trying to lift his spirits and prevent the destruction of any more furniture. "Who cares if you're working with Fushimi? Whatever you do is amazing, so make this party awesome for all of us, okay? And don't let him get all the credit for it!"
Yata's ears perk up slightly at that, slowly draining of the red color and returning to the normal soft peach. "Huh...you're right," he says. His gloomy eyes suddenly light up, and a determined smile replaces the frown on his face. "This party will be so great that everyone will remember it forever!"
"Nice one, Rikio-chan," Kusanagi whispers to him with a wink. Kamamoto chuckles modestly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"HELL YEAH! I'LL GO GET STARTED RIGHT AWAY, EVEN IF THAT LAZY MONKEY DOESN'T SHOW UP!" Yata yells with a burst of energy. He grabs his skateboard and tosses it to the floor, placing his foot on it and pushing forward. "I'll see you all later! Get prepared for the best party of your lives!"
"Well that changed his mood fast," Chitose says, blinking, once Yata's out the door.
"Thankfully, and now everything is going according to plan," Kusanagi adds with a mischievous smile. Anna reflects his expression, nodding.
"Is there something we should know about?" Kamamoto asks, confused.
"Oh, don't worry about it. You'll know soon enough," is all Kusanagi says in response to that.
Kamamoto and Chitose share a glance before turning to stare at the door through which Yata left, wondering if all of this was more than just what meets the eye.
"Tch. You're late, Misaki."
That's the first thing Yata hears when he shows up to the party hall carrying piles upon piles of decorations. He almost falls off his skateboard as he spots a familiar looking figure standing before him, leaning against the back wall with his hands shoved into his pockets.
"Saru, what the hell are you doing here?" Yata exclaims, steadying himself after setting down the boxes he was carrying.
"Are you that stupid, or did you really forget that we were assigned to decorate the party for tomorrow together?" He clicks his tongue, an annoyed expression taking form on his face.
Yata's face scrunches up, like he'd just walked into a garbage dump. "Fuck you! We weren't even supposed to meet until later this evening!"
"Then why are you here?" Saruhiko asks with almost no emotion to his voice.
"I...I wanted to start early," Yata states as he kneels down to open the first box, turning his head to hide the embarrassed blush burning at the tips of his ears. He shakes out a string of lights, holding the tangled mess out in front of him. In his peripheral vision, he catches Saruhiko shifting his position, so he adds, "Also, I don't need your damn help. I can do this by myself."
Saruhiko pauses for a moment and then simply clicks his tongue, closing his eyes. "Do whatever you want, Misaki. I'll just wait until you mess up and then fix everything afterwards."
Yata resists the urge to fire something back at him. Instead, he uses his anger to pull apart the lights in a feeble attempt to untangle them. He mutters incoherent things under his breath, not handling the wires with the care he should be handling them with.
Saruhiko opens one eye when he hears a mix of grunts and bulbs clacking. "Don't be so rough, Misaki. You'll break them."
"I don't need your damn criticism," Yata says through gritted teeth, not bothering to stop pulling apart the lights as a lion would rip apart a deer. "And quit calling me by that name!"
"Why? I think it suits you rather well, Mi~sa~ki," Saruhiko says with a grin, steadying his gaze on Misaki's small, chiseled face.
At that, he's had enough. His patience never really lasted long anyway.
Yata stands up abruptly and takes a step forward to punch him, but ends up tripping over the string of lights, falling face first onto the floor. Clenching his fists, he attempts to stand up again but can only sit up awkwardly as he realizes he's tangled within all the cords.
Saruhiko laughs, his grin only growing wider. "I didn't realize you were so clumsy. Looks like you'll always be an idiot."
"Shut the hell up you bastard!" Yata yells, struggling to get out of the mess of knots. His brows are sharply furrowed, his teeth pressed so tightly together that they just might shatter. "This is all your fault!"
"My fault?" Saruhiko scoffs. "I didn't even touch you."
"Just fucking help me," Yata grumbles, feeling as if the world is closing in on him and eradicating his existence.
"I thought you said you didn't need my help," Saruhiko reminds him, his expression shifting to more of a serious one.
Yata looks down at the floor, because at this point, anything is better than looking at the solemn face of a traitor, a man who was once his best friend in the whole world. Normally he'd be so outspoken, shouting at anyone who dares to try and destroy his precious pride, but lately he's been finding it harder and harder to say things that came directly to his mind. Especially when it came to Saruhiko.
He expels a puff of air, hanging his head low. He thinks of Anna, who held him with a gentle yet desperate grip, telling him that this wouldn't be as bad as he thought it would be. He wanted to believe her, but so far, even after just a few minutes since arriving here, he'd only been feeling like complete shit.
Yata predicts he'll be stuck forever in this room that's suddenly become too hot, when a pair of nimble, pale hands reach towards his direction, startling him. He raises his head slowly, surprised to see Saruhiko with an annoyed expression reforming on his face, helping him out of the tangled mess of lights.
"Saruhiko...?" Yata starts.
"Don't look so depressed, stupid Misaki. It doesn't look good on you," Saruhiko says, swiftly yet carefully working his way through the knots. "What's wrong with you anyway? You seem different."
Yata looks visibly offended. "Nothing's wrong except for the fact that I'm stuck here, being forced to work together with you," he mutters. "And how would you know what I've been like, huh? It's not like you spent time with me these past few ye–"
"As much as it annoys me," Saruhiko cuts in, not wanting the conversation to head in that direction, "hearing you shout is better than this. What the hell is actually bothering you?"
The fire in Yata's irises blazes when it meets the blue in Saruhiko's eyes. "What makes you think there's more, huh? Just because you're smart and all doesn't mean you know everything!" Yata spits out in a burst of frustration. "Why the hell do you even care? It's not like you ever cared about my feelings anyway! Isn't that why you left, damn traitor?! You didn't even think about how I would feel once you were gone!"
Saruhiko's expression twists into a deeper frown, and he almost breaks the wire he's holding. In any other situation he would tease Yata, but something made his heart twist grossly, causing him to refrain from doing so. "And what about you, Misaki? Did you ever care about mine?"
A short moment of silence followed that question, and Yata stares at Saruhiko as if he couldn't recognize him. "The fuck are you talking ab–"
"Do you ever stop to think even once in your pathetic life?" Saruhiko interrupts, stopping his hands for a moment to look up into Yata's eyes.
Yata's eyes don't meet his. They're still searching his face, as if this is some complex math problem he can't seem to comprehend in the slightest.
"You're a terrible person, Misaki..." Saruhiko says softly, and Yata can now see the visible hurt in his eyes, something he didn't seem to recognize before but instantly knew that it had been there for a while.
A sudden pang attacks his heart, and the layer of pride and arrogance that Yata values so much dissipates for a moment. "Saruhiko, why didn't you tell me before?"
"That you're a horrible person? I'm sure I did tell you a couple of times," Saruhiko says with a scoff, but even Yata isn't fooled by the amusement he's trying to use to cover up the pain within.
"That's not what I mean! Why didn't you tell me how you were feeling?"
"Even if I did tell you, you'd never understand."
"Don't say that!" Yata shouts suddenly, disrupting the softness they had just a few minutes ago. "If it's you, Saruhiko, I'll do whatever it takes to understand. I want to know why you did what you did...there's no way someone I liked so much could end up being a horrible traitor!"
Saruhiko yanks apart a strand of lights that's holding Yata's arms together, setting them free. He then turns around, staring at the wall in front of him. "Shut up, Misaki."
"Saruhiko..." Yata says with desperation, pleading him with his eyes to turn around and face him.
But he doesn't. Instead, he responds with, "I can't even tell if you hate me or not. Your words confuse me."
Now it's Yata's turn to be silent. In short, he doesn't know the answer either. All he knows is that in this very moment, he can't stay mad at him. So, without giving it much thought, he closes his eyes and leans his head on Saruhiko's back, feeling as his muscles tense up upon the contact.
"Misaki, what are you–" Saruhiko begins, but Yata cuts him off.
"I shouldn't be the one saying this, or at least not the only one saying this, but I'm sorry."
He says it in such a soft manner that it takes a second for Saruhiko to register that it's his voice. He knows Yata means it, that he's genuinely sorry, but still, it only makes him angry.
"Don't play these stupid games with me, Misa–"
Before he can finish his statement, Yata's arms wrap around his torso, rendering him speechless.
"Wh-"
"Shut it, Saruhiko." Yata squeezes his eyes shut, plunging into the depths of his heart and soul. Yata's never been one to think too deeply about things. If there's anything he's realized over the years, it's that he can't stay mad at Saruhiko forever, no matter what he does. Even if it's as shitty as betraying the clan he values more than anything.
It's because of the fact that Yata Misaki simply can't focus on the bad things in life that makes this a little easier for him. He always searched for the light at the end of every dark tunnel he's ever been in, strongly believing that life was too short to think negatively about everything. Whether it's in a fight or a tough situation, Yata made sure to bask in that light instead of drowning himself in the shadows.
And now, he wanted to be the light for Saruhiko, because his best friend had been in the shadows for far too long.
Yata doesn't let go of Saruhiko, and wouldn't let go even if Saruhiko tried to pry his arms off. He holds him tighter, pulling him close until he can feel his own heartbeat resonating through his skin.
Saruhiko still can't find the words he wants–or thinks– to say. All he knows is that he doesn't want Yata to let go, ever, because he's been wanting this for so long that the fact that it was happening now made him delirious.
Shakily, he reaches down and places his hand on top of Yata's. His hands are so thin and pale compared to Yata's tanned, callous ones.
Yata's so close to him that he can feel his smile on his back, and all Saruhiko can do in that moment is smile too. A real, genuine smile, for the first time in years.
The next morning, a tired Kamamoto and Chitose enter the party hall only to find out that it hadn't been decorated in the slightest.
"Huh?!" Kamamoto screeches, staring at the bare walls. He and Chitose exchange a look, sharing the same confused expression.
Earlier, Kusanagi and Anna had called them in to check out the 'special surprise' in the party hall, but they were not expecting something like this.
"Shh! You'll wake them up!" Anna whispers, but it's loud enough so they all can hear.
"Wake who up?" Chitose asks, looking around.
She points towards the floor, and Chitose gasps.
There, in the middle of the linoleum floor, lie Saruhiko and Yata. They're huddled close together, their breathing soft and in sync. Yata's legs are wrapped in Christmas lights, his head is resting in the nook of Saruhiko's neck, and his fingers are firmly holding on to the fabric of Saruhiko's uniform. Saruhiko has his arms around Yata, holding him in a way a mother would hold her baby.
"Aren't they adorable?" Anna asks with a smile.
As Kamamoto and Chitose continue to stare at Yata and Saruhiko as if they were some rare species, Munakata Reisi walks in through the door with an elegant smirk on his face.
"Looks like our plan worked to perfection," he states proudly, pushing his glasses up with a grin.
Kusanagi mimics the gesture, a smile creeping across his face. "Oh, it sure did."