Bandaged Hearts

Chapter 28

"Let's bring (y/n) home."

Everyone in the bar floods out with the verbal thumbs up from their king. Their feet thud against the wooden floor boards and onto the concrete sidewalks. Mikoto begins to walk towards the bar door after his clan, a small tug on his jacket bringing him to a halt. He looks back at the stopping force, staring down at the small girl. Her wide gaze holds a small fire that's never been there.

"You have to hurry. Yata is in danger," Anna says softly.

Mikoto nods, ruffling Anna's white locks lightly before leaving Izumo's bar. His amber gaze quickly shifts from lazy to sharp in a heartbeat, after his exit.

"Don't do anything stupid, kid. Your Princess is waiting for you." Mikoto thinks, his lanky legs taking long strides until he's up to a sprint.

The red clan's Sword of Damocles starts to accumulate in the air while rising above Shizume City. Its weathered state floats with animosity towards Scepter 4, parts of the sanded red sword crumbling with its slow movement. Mikoto storms through people with grace, as if he were a lion with a mane of fire. His aura also ignites, a hot red flame swallowing his frame. Not too far ahead, Mikoto locks onto the rest of his clan. He sprints after them, bringing up the end of the pack. HOMRA rushes to Scepter 4, sword in tow, and fire burning bright.

Yata skids his skateboard to a halt, the lowered backend trailing a line of vivid flames behind him. He kicks up his skateboard and holds it under his left arm. The vanguard snaps his narrowed, hazel eyes to the building past the metal, barred gates before him. A thin, red aura bubbles around him as his heart thumps a rapid rhythm, the angered shell growing with every beat. He tightens his grip around his metal bat, knuckles flushing a ghostly white. His jaw tightens, the muscles in his neck constricting. Yata's clear vision starts turning red with hate and resentment. The signature red outline of HOMRA that encases the vanguard bursts into a chaotic flame with his growing rage. He raises his silver bat into the air, bringing it down onto the gate's bars.

"Damn monkey! Give (y/n) back!" Yata yells, metal crashing with metal over and over again.

He continues bashing in the bars, dents being beaten into place. With every strike Yata makes, his throat tightens and teeth grind themselves into one another.

"Give her back!" he hollers, taking one more strike.

Yata lets his arms go limp from exhaustion, the top of his bat tapping the ground while his clenched hands quiver. His body slumps, hunched over and breathing shakily. He bites his bottom lip, trying to keep it from shaking. The nineteen year old swallows a hard lump, a burning sensation swelling in his eyes. A tear falls. He snaps his gaze up, raising his bat into the air.

"I won't let them have you!!" he screams.

The bat starts to zip downwards with a flame chasing after it, all of Yata's anger behind the swing. His bat almost connects with the gate, but a large hand rests itself on Yata's shoulder. He tightens his muscles, the bat coming to a halt.

"Yata."

The vanguard whips around, wiping his hazel eyes from their tears. He looks up at his king, a pained look on his face.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Suoh, but you can't stop me. HOMRA can sit by and do nothing, but I can't let them force (y/n) into something she doesn't want to do," Yata says, grip tightening on his bat.

Nothing is said between the protector and the king. They just stare. After what feels like forever for Yata, Mikoto lets out a sigh from his nose, a smile dawning his lips. The red haired king pats his subordinate's shoulder, taking his hand away and pulling out a cigarette.