A/N: I really don't know how to describe this. I'm not 100% happy with it, but it is a prompt from and gift to the wonderful Kodachi-Rose. So here we are. Mikayuu suffering ahoy.

Special thanks go to VenTheWriter, for beta reading this and putting up with my endless whining about how hard it is to write Mika.

Mikaela Hyakuya is 16 years old. The war is over. Now there can be peace. All around Mika, the humans are celebrating, hugging, kissing. The man with the pipe has picked up the woman with red hair and thrown her over his shoulder. Hats are flying into the air. Yuu is buried beneath a pile of friends who are all holding him and laughing.

Mika stands in an empty circle. Behind him he hears the whispers – is that a vampire? Oh, it's that vampire. Keep hold of your cursed gear... probably a spy... wouldn't trust him if I were you.

Mika doesn't trust himself either. Ferid and Crowley have retreated back to Sanguinem. Mika considers following, tears his eyes from Yuu and his friends... no, his new family.

But he can't leave. Mika does not belong with the vampires either. He betrayed them for Yuu, would betray them again if he had to. He has killed many of their kind (his kind – the darker part of his mind reminds him). He is not welcome there. He is not welcome anywhere.

A hand encircles his wrist. Mika flinches. His eyes snap down to brown hair, green eyes, sheepish smile. Yoichi Saotome looks up at him.

'Uh, Mika-san, what are you doing by yourself? Come celebrate with us – did you hear? Shinya-san said there would be a feast – oh! And dancing and music! It's been so long since the last time I-'

The small human, who was apparently Yuu's first school friend, continues to drag Mika over to where Kimizuki has Yuu in a headlock and is messing with his hair. Mika doesn't approve but he doesn't get to say anything because the girl – Shinoa – skips over and wraps herself around Mika's other arm. Mika tenses.

Shinoa says, 'My, my, Yoichi, stop hogging Mika. He is all of our honorary squad and therefore family member, after all.'

Yuu breaks free of Kimizuki. His eyes meet Mika's. Mika takes a breath. He doesn't dare to blink. Yuu's lips break into a wide grin. He calls his name and then Yoichi and Shinoa are scattering and Yuu's arms are around his neck and he almost, almost falls over backwards.

But he doesn't. He turns to keep his balance. His arms close around Yuu – his Yuu-chan – his fingers gripping his uniform jacket tightly. They spin with the momentum of Yuu's hug. It feels like they will never stop. Yuu is laughing. The wind stings Mika's face.

When Yuu's feet touch the ground, Mika realises he is crying. Yuu holds his arm for balance, red-faced, smiling like it's Christmas morning and he's got everything he ever asked for.

Mika has got everything he could ever ask for. He pulls Yuu-chan back into his arms, buries his face in the space between Yuu's neck and his shoulder. Yuu makes a little noise of surprise.

Mika isn't aware of the startled humans around him. He doesn't notice as Kimizuki grabs another human's arm to stop him breaking the two of them apart. He doesn't hear Yoichi explain that he isn't biting Yuu.

All he hears the voice in his ear.

'Hey, Mika... Let's go home.'

Mikaela Hyakuya is 21 years old. Yuu-chan is bundled up his second hand woollen coat and the earmuffs bought for him by Yoichi on his nineteenth birthday. The coat seems too thick for his frame still, but it is his favourite and Yuu has been wearing it for years.

A snowflake lands on Yuu's nose. Mika reaches up to brush it off. Yuu jerks his face away and sneezes violently.

'You need to dress up more warmly, Yuu-chan,' Mika says, handing him a tissue.

Yuu takes it and blows his nose. 'Sh-shut up, we're almost there,' he says and then tugs Mika's hat down over his eyes.

'Yuu-chan!' Mika pauses to pull it back up. Yuu-chan is holding the door to the bar open for him, with a triumphant smile like this was a contest and he just won it.

Mika lets him, gives him a gentle shove as he passes. Once inside, Mika selects the table – a spot in a corner where the lighting is slightly dim and people won't look too closely at them – and Yuu selects the drinks.

'Cocktails,' he says as he brings a tray over and sits down. 'My treat.'

And it says something about Yuu-chan's sense of humour that in addition to two sunrise wine glasses with little umbrellas in them he has brought them each a deep red concoction in a test tube like ones Mika used to drink Krul's blood from.

Mika looks from Yuu-chan to the test tube and back again. The smirk on Yuu's face tells him it is deliberate and he is proud.

Yuu takes his test tube and touches it to his lips, only to pull it away again a moment later. 'Oh, you have to down these, by the way – but I guess you already know that.'

He smirks for a moment longer and then knocks the shot back. Mika kicks him under the table. He starts to choke. Mika waits until he has recovered and is rubbing his leg and glaring up at him before drinking his own.

When he puts the empty test tube back on the table, Yuu-chan is looking at him intensely, his cheeks flushed pink. When their eyes meet, he looks away, lifts a hand to scratch at the back of his neck.

'Y'know,' he says and he almost looks 16 again and on a bench, awkwardly confessing his feelings while trying to hold cotton candy steady and failing on both counts. 'I always thought you looked kinda sexy when you did that.'

Mika raises his eyebrows, puts on his best knowing look. 'Really, Yuu-chan? Sexy?'

Yuu goes to pieces. A fierce blush spreads across his cheeks. He looks to Mika like a startled rabbit, looks away again, looks anywhere but Mika, stammers; 'W-well... I... I mean... You-'

Mika cuts him off, leans across the table, presses a slender finger to Yuu's lips. Yuu makes a small sound that sounds suspiciously like, 'Eep!'

'Well I think you look pretty "sexy" when you're blushing like that, Yuu-chan.' He throws in a wink for good measure.

If possible, Yuu turns even redder, tries to scowl and retorts, 'Sh-shut up, Mika – I'm not blushing.'

'Oh? You will be later,' Mika replies and slyly ghosts his hand up Yuu's leg under the table.

Yuu squeaks, instantly bringing his knee up and bashing it on the underside of the table so hard that Mika has to scramble to save the drinks from toppling over. The glasses clink together. For a moment Yuu's eyes widen in shock and then his face scrunches up in embarrassment and he drops his head onto the table with a dull thud, shielding himself from the world with his arms.

In spite of himself, Mika starts to laugh.

Yuu releases a pained groan. 'Shut up, Mika, it's not funny.'

His laughter is cut short as the barman, who had been collecting empty glasses from a nearby table, looks their way and then approaches.

'Is he okay?' is the question Mika expects. It isn't the question he gets.

Instead the man claps Yuu on the shoulder and looks between the two of them suspiciously. 'Can I see some ID?'

'I already showed it at the bar,' Yuu gripes, rubbing the red patch on his forehead.

Mika rifles through his wallet, produces the ID and hands it over while Yuu grumbles. The barman looks from the ID to Mika and back again, makes a show of holding it under the light. He won't find anything amiss, Mika knows it. Shinya Hiragi personally pulled the strings necessary for Mika to get hold of a human ID. It was as legitimate as they came.

'This is fake,' he concludes.

'What?' Yuu stops rummaging in his coat pocket. 'Fuck off is it!'

'Serving alcohol to minors is a criminal offense,' the bartender says coldly. 'I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave.'

'He's fucking twenty one. We're both twenty one – we were born in the same damn year – look!' Yuu jumps to his feet, shoving his ID, identical to Mika's, in the barman's face.

The barman does not give it a second look. He steps back, looks over Yuu's hand to its owner and adds, 'We also don't take hostile behaviour lightly, sir. If you persist, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave as well.'

Yuu explodes. 'What? You're fucking kidding me!'

Mika reaches for his hand, squeezes it with just enough force that Yuu knows he is serious and urges, 'Yuu-chan – it's fine, don't worry. We'll go home.'

'No it's not fine!' Yuu turns, faces Mika, red-faced now for an entirely different reason – rage. It occurs to Mika that Yuu-chan is slightly taller than he is now. He doesn't know why, but he's taken aback.

Yuu's free hand grasps his shoulder. 'Just because you look young doesn't mean you're any younger than I am!'

People are watching them. Mika shifts uncomfortably. 'Yuu-chan, I know, I know. But let's just go, okay?'

'No, it's not okay. This guy has no idea what a real ID even looks like. It's – it's discrimination.' Yuu's hand has lifted from his shoulder, gestures wildly in the direction of the barman. Mika knows it's moments away from curling into a fist.

He grips Yuu's hand harder, exerts his strength to pull him closer. 'Please, Yuu-chan. Let's just leave. I want to go home.'

Yuu looks down, meets his gaze, frowns, deflates. He glares at the barman as they pass, but he lets Mika lead him away. Half of the way home, he shivers, chews his lip but says nothing. The silence is colder than the falling snow.

Mika breaks it. 'Hey, Yuu-chan? I'm sorry I ruined our date.'

'Don't be stupid,' Yuu snaps and blows at a falling snowflake. 'It wasn't you who kicked us out – it was that bastard judging by appearances and not bothering to check his damn facts.'

Mika brushes against his arm. 'Anyway, the night isn't over yet. I'll make it up to you later.'

Mika expects Yuu to get the insinuation, expects him to blush. He doesn't. He's still angry. He mumbles something about how Mika shouldn't have to. Mika ignores his feelings of unease.

'Hey Yuu-chan?' He waits until Yuu sulkily turns his head to look at him before he says it. 'I love you, you know.'

That does it, Yuu's cheeks flush as red as his nose. He looks away, but holds Mika's hand just a little tighter. 'I-I love you too, idiot – more than anything.'

This time, Mika doesn't tease him. Instead he pulls Yuu off balance with their entwined hands, strokes the reddened cheeks he loves so much, and kisses Yuu like nobody is watching.

Mikaela Hyakuya is 26 years old. Yuu-chan is taller than him now, handsome –although he's always been that. His green eyes haven't changed but his jaw is stronger. He has stubble that scratches Mika's neck at nights. His hair is shorter too. It suits him more, he says. This way he can keep the stubble without looking 'ungroomed' as Shinoa called him. Yuu-chan thinks his stubble makes him look rugged.

He holds Mika in arms that feel large around him. It is the opposite to how things used to be, but Mika fits against Yuu's chest like it is the purpose he was born for and Yuu's lips are as soft against his own as they have always been.

Mika is still the strongest – that won't change even if Yuu does. Yuu is still most competitive. Mika is still most affectionate. Yuu still lets Mika pin him, still grips his hair tightly as Mika's teeth nip at sensitive skin of his neck. Yuu's calloused fingers send delight in waves down Mika's back.

Mika loves Yuu as much now has he had ten years ago – no, more. He whispers it into Yuu's hair as they lay entangled on their bed.

'I love you too,' Yuu mumbles back, 'more than I should.'

His voice is soft, but he doesn't look up. His hand encircles Mika's wrist, his thumb tracing methodical circles over his pulse point. His eyes roam over the reflection of their entwined bodies in the mirror across from their bed. When they first had it installed, Yuu used to meet his eyes in it as he woke and grin. Now when green eyes meet Mika's, Yuu frowns before he manages a smile. And then he looks away.

Later, they get up. They go to the pub to meet Yuu's old friends. Mika does not drink. Nor does Yuu. When they leave early so that Yuu can get up for work in the morning, their arms brush with each step but Yuu does not take Mika's hand.

Mikaela Hyakuya is 29 years old. The old bedroom mirror hangs on the back of the bathroom door. Yuu says it's better for him shaving. Mika does not need to shave. Mika does not need to do a lot of things. He doesn't need as much sleep as Yuu does, for one, but he takes it anyway so that he can lie next to Yuu for a little while longer.

When Yuu is asleep, Mika traces his features with keen eyes. He examines the dusting of freckles across the bridge of Yuu's nose – sun-darkened, altered with age. With the stubble gone, Yuu's jaw is strong and defined. Yuu looks every one of his 29 years.

Mika finds himself recounting them with a small, sad smile. He looks for each one in the way Yuu's hair falls around him, in the curve of his parted lips. He rests his hand next to Yuu's in the space between them. Yuu's hand is large and calloused, his nails short and broken. Beside it, the moonlight illuminates Mika's with a pale glow. It is slim, delicate.

Mika looks between them and can't help but wonder how his hands would be if the years were able to touch more than his mind. He wonders if he would be taller than Yuu as he had been when they were sixteen. He wonders if his skin would have been marked by the sun. He wonders silly things like would he need glasses? What would the frames be? What size shoes would he be wearing?

Yuu stirs, rolls over. Mika can no longer see his face. He looks at the back of Yuu's head and begins to close his eyes. Through his eyelashes, it's easy to imagine that Yuu is still sixteen as well. And then he blinks and the moment has passed, and another thought takes him by surprise:

When would Mika have noticed his first grey hair? When would the lines on his face stop smoothing with sleep? When will Yuu-chan stop looking like Yuu-chan?

Mika tells himself it doesn't matter – that Yuu-chan is Yuu-chan no matter what, that, like Yuu has always said, they are family and as long as they are both still breathing it will always be so. His heart thumps uneasily in his chest.

He lies awake but when Yuu sits up, he pretends not be. He feels Yuu's eyes on him like prickling under his skin. Calloused fingers stroke Mika's forehead, trace along the line of his jaw. It is not a fleeting touch, but it is not tender. It is like Yuu is searching, searching his skin for all those signs of time that Mika had noticed on Yuu's face earlier – signs they both know will never come.

Mika opens his eyes and in the moment before Yuu registers he's watching, he swears that Yuu's green eyes are misted, his eyebrows drawn into a frown. Even though Yuu gives him a tired smile, Mika's heart sinks into his stomach.

Mikaela Hyakuya is 30 years old. The sun is low on the horizon and the air is crisp. Mika is unaffected by the cold, but he wears the scarf Yuu bought him anyway. Leaning back against the stone bench in the park, Mika looks like any ordinary teenager. In fact, he looks almost exactly as he had when he'd been cuddling up to Yuu-chan here fourteen years ago with cotton candy in his hair.

The Yuu who approaches him now isn't the same as back then. Mika's eyes single him out long before he moves within vocal range. He still wears that stupid old coat. It fits snugly now. He doesn't seem to care that the pockets are threadbare.

As Yuu comes closer, Mika notices he's wearing a frown. Fourteen years ago, Mika would have joked that he was going to get frown lines. It isn't funny now.

Yuu manages to greet Mika with a smile as he stops in front of the bench, awkwardly scuffing the toe of his boot in the gravel. Mika pats the bench next to him.

'I don't bite, you know?' he jokes. '...Much.'

The corners of Yuu's lips twitch upwards but he doesn't laugh. He sits with a person's space between them. Yuu never touches Mika in public anymore. He is afraid, Mika heard Yuu telling Yoichi, that soon they might be mistaken for a different kind of family. Mika pretends he never heard it; it's easier that way. If he hasn't heard it then he doesn't have to concede that Yuu has a point.

Yuu's eyes are hidden by his hood but Mika can see his teeth worrying at his lip. His jaw quivers. Mika's heart jumps painfully in his chest. He reaches out for Yuu. Yuu turns his head and Mika retracts his hand.

'I'm sorry,' he chokes out, and that does it. Mika can't restrain himself. He encircles Yuu in his arms like they're still sixteen years old and Yuu needs saving, needs keeping, needs protecting. Perhaps if he reacts that way then they will be.

Yuu flinches and shrugs him off. 'No, no, please don't.'

His hands clench into fists in his lap.

'Yuu-chan?' Mika starts, uncertainty combined with urgency in his voice. It comes out sounding hurt and that's terrible, especially when a tear rolls down Yuu's cheek. It is not Mika who is hurt; Yuu-chan is hurt. Nothing is happening that will hurt Mika. 'What is it? Are you- has something happened?'

That was it: his friend, Mitsuba, is pregnant. Mika's thoughts immediately go to her, because she has to be the reason Yuu called him here like this because Yuu-chan always cries for others more than for himself. And there isn't any other reason why Yuu would be upset.

Yuu shakes his head. 'No... No it's not that. M-Mika, listen...'

Something tells Mika that he doesn't want to.

'It's this – us... I-I can't,' Yuu chokes and it sounds like a realisation.

Mika's heart beats fast. Fast like Ferid is chasing them, like the screams of their family are ringing in his ears, like Yuu-chan is danger and he is going to die and he may never see Yuu-chan again and that's worse – far worse than dying, because if he is dead than he knows nothing.

'You can,' he says quickly, grabbing Yuu's hand and enclosing it within his own. He grips it tightly like he might pull Yuu to safety, might save him this time and keep him safe just like he promised all those years ago. 'Together, you know we come through anything! If you just tell me what's-'

Yuu lifts his head then, turns sharply. Almost simultaneously, his hand breaks free from Mika's grasp and the wind knocks back his hood. He grips Mika by the shoulders but Mika does not react. He is paralysed by Yuu's green eyes, their brilliant colour obscured by tears.

The sound Yuu makes before he speaks makes Mika's heart squeeze painfully. 'No, Mika, we can't! Not this time – it would be different if you were just... if I had just... I said I'd save you-'

Yuu's hands lift from Mika's shoulders, ball into fists. Yuu clenches his jaw, swipes tears from his cheek.

'-And you did!' Mika interrupts before Yuu can continue. He reaches for Yuu's hand again.

Yuu sweeps his hand to the side violently. 'No, I didn't! I damned you! The moment I let you drink my stupid blood, I...' He shakes his head, bites his lip, makes a low noise of frustration. 'You never change, Mika. You never change and it's my fault. If I hadn't...'

Mika interrupts him desperately. He doesn't think his answer through; his only thought is that he has to say something, anything to stop Yuu talking, to stop this happening. 'If you want me to change, I'll change! I can get a different hairstyle, yeah... And I'll help more around the house.'

He reaches out, places a hand atop Yuu's closed fist. This time, Yuu doesn't pull away. His green eyes soften. Tear spill from their corners, but for a moment he holds Mika's gaze with a face that seems too still for Yuu-chan, that makes him seem older. Then the moment passes, Yuu's eyes close, he takes a shaky breath and breaks the spell;

'Mika... Don't you see? It isn't that. That stuff doesn't matter – it's – you can't change because you're not human.'

Yuu looks up and in his eyes is a kind of finality that makes Mika retract his hand before he can breathe again.

He inhales. His chest constricts. When he exhales, it all comes out in a rush. 'It doesn't matter – you always said – you always said it didn't matter!'

His voice is raised. He doesn't mean it to. His hands tremble. He can't control that either.

Yuu raises his voice as well. 'I know – I know! And I believed it too, I fucking believed it. And I told myself I'd love you just the same no matter what but I – I just can't... do this. You don't age, Mika. You'll never age. People already think I'm your big brother – soon they'll start mistaking me for your dad. I can't touch you public because people think I'm a – I'm a pervert.'

Yuu's teeth are tearing into his lip. It's going to bleed, Mika thinks and tries to focus on that and not what it means, not the shapes Yuu's lips have just made, not idea that he might never take blood from this lips again because... because...

He hears his own voice, high, panicked. 'It doesn't matter – it doesn't matter what they think – as long we love each other we can-'

Yuu is shaking his head. His lips part to speak. Mika thinks if he can just keep talking then Yuu-chan will never say those and nothing will change.

Yuu interrupts him. His voice is low, pained. 'No, we can't! I love you – I love you so fucking much but I just can't... every time I look at you, every time I touch you, it just feels... wrong.'

Mika doesn't think before he speaks. Yuu's words are more deafening than his own heartbeat and between them both there is no room for anything else – only the all encompassing need to just keep talking, to say anything, do anything to keep Yuu from finishing, to keep his family safe this time.

'Then we can just... you can close your eyes. You – you don't even have to do anything.'

'No, Mika. We can't.' Yuu's frown is deepening. 'You deserve more than this and I... I can't love you the way you deserved to be loved. I'm sorry, Mika... I can't be with you anymore.'

And there it is. Fresh tears are spilling over Yuu's cheeks. Irrationally, Mika thinks to reach out, to wipe them away. Because it's Yuu-chan and he's crying, and all Mika wants in the world is for Yuu-chan to be happy. But he doesn't really see him, not anymore. His ears are ringing.

Yuu is all he sees and all needs and all he thinks is: 'But... we're family.'

Yuu lifts his head. His hand twitches on his lap like for just a moment, he had thought to reach out for Mika's. But he doesn't. He leans closer, he bows his head and he says with solemn promise: 'You'll always be my family but just... not like this. I'm sorry Mika, I'm so sorry.'

Mika stands suddenly. The world moves around him. His feet begin to move without him. Behind him, he hears Yuu calling his name, but it is not Yuu-chan's voice that follows him. His heart clenches; his stomach sinks; but Mika does not look back.

The voice is not Yuu-chan's because it is not Yuu-chan he is leaving behind. Yuu-chan has already been left behind and if Mika turns back, he knows what he will see. Yuu surrounded by those humans he calls family, those humans who use him, abuse him but claim to love him like Yuu loves them.

Mika slips away just like he had that day on the battlefield, like those blissful years with Yuu were nothing more than wishful thinking, and he abandons his family all over again.

'Mika – Oi! Mika!'

He takes to rooftops but Yuu's voice does not stop following him.

Mikaela Hyakuya is 16 years old to all who look his way. He has come to learn that to a vampire, the passage of time is unimportant. He does not involve himself in the affairs of the humans around him. At first he is kept away by a deep ache that weighs his bones like bloodlust, and then it simply becomes common sense.

He travels periodically from place to place, staying as long as he is welcome. The vampires in each city do not often welcome him, especially in the areas that were once Tokyo and Kyoto. Their memories are long; those who recognise him know what he did. But their allegiances are fickle and they do not chase him.

He meets René Simm in a disused rail tunnel, still searching for their former companion, Lacus Welt. He does not have the heart to tell him that Lacus is most likely dead. The look in René's eyes tells him he already knows.

They are not friends, he and René; they never were. But the older vampire is a familiar face, an occasional word or two beneath the cold moon. They form a partnership of convenience. In the large cities they stop at, René procures blood for them both so that Mika doesn't have to bear the stares of those who know him. In return, Mika handles any enquires to be made to humans in the hunt for Lacus. It is not fun, but it is peaceful – agreeable even – and it is better than being alone.

He is alone now. René is asking around at a local coven of vampires he has heard tell of. If Mika does not go with him, the chances of the others sharing blood with them are higher. So Mika wanders the city with little interest, purposely avoiding eye contact with anybody, feet following pavements like half remembered dreams.

It occurs to him that he has been here before. He wandered many cities before meeting René, before they began to travel underground because it is easier. They are insignificant, the places he visits, but he keeps moving anyway, searches for a reasonably secluded place to sit and wait for his companion.

He finds one – an old park hemmed in by new flats. Around it, cast iron railings are crumbling to rust. Inside it, the only piece of play equipment is a stainless steel slide. The setting sun casts the park in shadow. In the corner is an aged stone bench. Perfect.

Mika heads towards it. He does not realise where he is until it is too late. He grips the back of the bench for support, the stone beneath his hands rough but familiar. Ahead, there used to be a set of swings. Now their base is all that remains, hidden by the undergrowth. There is nothing left here but the shell of a place within his memories, but Mika knows it, would know it anywhere.

The old stone bench where Yuu confessed his feelings all those years ago. It comes to him in a rush of colour. Reds, pinks, oranges – the warmth of the sun across the freckled bridge of a nose. Cotton candy in black hair. Wide smiles, green eyes, dusted sugar on soft lips.

The old stone bench where Yuu confessed his fears all those years ago. Tears, trembling hands, the disappearance of the sun from the horizon. Mika's name shouted in desperation. The last image of Yuu burned into the backs of Mika's eyes, distorted by grief.

Panic grips him. It is irrational, but he is irrational, Yuu-chan's terrified voice is irrational and Yuichiro Hyakuya is everywhere. Mika sees him by the gate they walked through hand in hand; he sees him on the old swing set where they laughed until the moon rose; he sees him waiting with a bouquet of roses, red ones no less, for their first official date. His apartment is just around the corner and it's too close, too much, too raw.

He hurts Yuu by being around him. His presence is a stain and he must leave.

'Um, are you alright?'

It is a girl's voice. Mika flinches, looks up in spite of himself. She is his age, the age he calls himself now. Fate is cruel; in her arms she carries a dozen red roses. A child of half her age grips the bottom of her jacket.

'F-fine,' Mika says and turns his head away.

The girl continues to approach. She hands the roses to the child, who hugs them tightly to his chest, then ducks her head to see under his hood.

'You don't look alright. You look pale. You should sit down for a minute,' she decides for him and reaches out to touch his arm.

Mika wants to flinch, wants to pull his arm away before she can make contact. But as she moves forwards, she looks up and green eyes meet his. He forgets to breathe.

'Sit on Grandpa's bench!' the child chimes in.

The girl is talking. Mika forces his eyes away from hers. It is the location, he tells himself. He probably needs blood, he tells himself. He definitely needs to get away, he tells himself. Because the eyes that regard him with concern are Yuu-chan's eyes on a different face. And the way her black hair falls into them is too familiar and it aches. It aches like he never met René, like he never left the city, like he is still nestled underneath a railway bridge trying to think where he might go.

He isn't. The bench looms beside him, and in trying to avoid the girl's eyes, it is the first thing his gaze settles on. And Yuu-chan is there too. Mika sees him with his arms over the back of the bench, looking up at the sky.

It's not the same, he reminds himself. Time has passed. The park is different. Yuu would be different now. Yuu would have a new life. Even the bench has changed. In the centre of the space that had been between them that day when Yuu's life ceased to include Mika, there is a shiny bronze plaque.

The setting sun shines on it just wrong. Mika ignores the girl, who still talks, whose hand is an unwelcome pressure on his back, and leans closer, tries to make out what is says.

In Loving Memory Of

Yuichiro Hyakuya

Cherished Husband, Father, Grandfather, Friend.

For a moment, it doesn't make sense. Because that's Yuu-chan's name and because Yuu is only 30 years old, because he isn't married, because he has no children. And because he isn't dead because Mika only left him a couple of years ago. Because... he was sitting right here and he should be here – should be right here calling Mika's name.

Because his voice still lingers in Mika's ears.

And how could Yuu possibly die without Mika knowing? How could time possibly pass without Mika being here?

It isn't true and he doesn't believe it and he expects Shinoa to jump out at any second because it's a prank surely – it's revenge for leaving Yuu-chan, for running away and not returning until...

Until it was too late.

The world goes quiet, rushes around him but for all Mika knows it is standing still. The girl's face swims in front of his, green eyes wide with worry.

Green eyes. Yuu's green eyes. Grandpa's bench. She has his hair. Her eyebrows draw closer into a frown and she looks so much like Yuu used to, so much that it's unfair.

She reaches out to touch his forehead and he wants to pull away, needs to pull away because if she touches him and he feels the warmth of her hand then she is real and this is real. But he can't. He is frozen and her hand is soft against his skin.

Yuu's granddaughter.

His vision blurs, distorts her. He can't see her face, but it doesn't go away. Yuu's granddaughter. Loving memory. Beloved grandfather. Heat spills from Mika's eyes over his cheeks.

'Hey – are you – what's the matter?' she says and presses a tissue into his hand like she's well versed in people crying.

She probably is, the dry part of his mind thinks, because Yuu-chan is... Her grandfather is dead.

A small hand touches his leg. Roses spill over his lap, some rolling forlornly onto the ground. 'Why are you sad? Did your Grandpa die too?'

'Mikaela, shhh!' the girl says and Mika finds himself dropping down onto the bench.

'Shh!' the child echoes back.

The girl speaks but all Mika can do is stare at the small child tentatively twirling a rose from the ground, the child with a face that is so eerily close to Yuu-chan's and a name he'd thought Yuu would rather have forgotten.

She rests her hand – warm despite the chill in the air; Yuu's hands were always warm too – on his shoulder. He tears his eyes from the little boy to hers just in time to hear her ask what the matter is.

It's all he can do to manage a sentence. 'Mikaela.' The name sounds foreign to his tongue. 'That's a... nice name.'

Then the girl is sitting down next to him on Yuu's bench – exactly where Yuu himself had sat all those years ago – and she's about his height, about his build when they were sixteen, and she looks over to him with compassionate green eyes. And it's almost too much, but then the little boy – Mikaela – pounces on Mika's knees

'Uh huh!' he says, too excited to keep still. 'I was named after someone who was super important to Grandpa – and the world too 'cause you know, Grandpa was a war hero. Yeah, and he and his friend helped win the war for us and get rid of all the Johnmen-'

'- Horsmen of John,' his sister interrupts apologetically. 'I'm sorry for-'

'Yeah, those!' the boy continues, using Mika's knee as a foothold to clamber onto the bench between him and his sister. 'And Grandpa used to tell us all these stories about him – his Mikaela, I mean – like there was this one time when Grandpa got attacked by these vampires and Mikaela came and drove them all away. He was crazy strong and he used to be able to carry Grandpa like he was made of feathers, and he always used to be there whenever Grandpa was in a punch-'

'-pinch,' the girl corrects. She tries to stop her brother from jumping to his feet and swinging an invisible sword over Mika's head, but Mika doesn't really see it.

Instead he remembers the warmth of Yuu nestled into his chest, the flush of pink across his cheeks because however many times it happened, it was embarrassing to be carried like a princess – and even more so to admit he liked it. Mika remembers teasing him, remembers brushing aside clumsy sword strikes, remembers catching Yuu's determined eyes and discovering that green fire burned the hottest.

The boy plops down onto the bench next to him, sword forgotten. 'Grandpa said he loved Mikaela very much. They were family no matter what and that's why he told Mommy she should name me him.'

Mika is reeling. In his ears, he hears Yu's voice whispering how he loved him. He tastes Yu's mouthwash on his tongue, feels Yu's hands around his waist.

The girl turns Yu's eyes to him. 'Grandpa... he had a very big family. He was part of the old army, you see, before they altered it all – back when the war was on. You never quite knew who was your blood relative and who wasn't but he... he loved us all very much. He used to say it was all he needed.'

'More than food!' the child chimes in, leaping off the bench and running around with a rose as a sword.

She smiles and as she does, she suddenly stops looking like Yuu and instead seems somehow softer. When she continues, her voice is soft and low. There is something about it that makes her seem older than she should be.

'He used to come here a lot. He said it was an important place – there was someone he'd promised to meet here once you see, or so he said. He never would tell us the story behind it. But we used to play here, while he waited. He'd often tell us stories about the war and about his Mikaela when we got bored. I never really questioned it but I wonder now if...'

She pauses, her eyes meeting his, and for a moment, Mika's breath catches in his throat. The image of Yuu flickers before his eyes, sitting, waiting, roses in hand. Only this time, the illusion doesn't smile. It doesn't greet him. It doesn't love him. Its eyes are sad and as it looks away, it becomes the girl.

Yuu's granddaughter, whose name he doesn't even know, because he wasn't there. Because Yuu is dead and Mika wasn't there.

And then she speaks. 'Never mind. It just feels right to come here to remember him, you know? It feels closer to him.' She clears her throat, looks back over to him and leans back on the bench. 'Anyway, my Grandma always says that a problem shared is a problem halved. Uncle Shiho always used to say it was bullshit but... talking about things does always helps so... what's your story?'

Mika doesn't know what to say. That he is the person Yuu spent a lifetime waiting for? That he is the Mikaela from the stories? That he's sorry? That's the most important thing.

He doesn't get to say it. At that moment, the boy's eyes widen, he jumps up from the floor and starts running for the gate.

'Uncle 'Ichi!'

The girl reluctantly looks away from Mika, and Mika finds that his eyes have to follow hers. If Ichi is their uncle then there is a chance that this Yuu's son, and although Mika has no place in their lives, although he has forfeited that long ago, he still needs to know, needs to see how Yuu lived out the days Mika lost, needs to meet the family that should have been his.

The figure at the gateway is not Yuu's son. It's an old man, white-haired, bent beneath the weight of his years. The boy tugs at his hand and points in Mika's direction. The green gaze Mika's eyes meet makes his stomach flip.

Something in the back of Mika's mind tells him he should take to the rooftops again as the old man approaches. But he hears Yuu's voice in his ears trying to call him back and his limbs are frozen like the cold can actually touch him.

'Mika?' the sound of his name makes him flinch. 'Is it-?' The old man dodders closer. 'It is – it's really-!'

Mika's lips move without his permission. 'Yoichi,' he says slowly and watches with horror and apprehension as tears fill the old man's eyes.

It feels wrong. It feels all wrong. Because Yoichi is thirty years old and slight but in the prime of his life. He isn't – he's not like this. But the voice that chokes out words raw with emotion, though gravelly, is Yoichi's. And his green eyes are warm.

'You came back.'

'Mika?' the girl questions, leaning away from him.

Mika ignores her. He's too busy staring at Yoichi's wrinkled face as the man draws closer, too busy not knowing how to feel. He wonders if this is what Yuu-chan would have looked like if he'd just arrived that little bit earlier and then Yoichi's hands are on him and he can't wonder anymore.

Yoichi takes Mika's hand like he isn't sure whether he's real. Mika isn't sure Yoichi is real either. His skin feels papery and cold, clinging to bones that Mika doesn't think he should be able to define. But Yoichi's smile hasn't changed.

'You're really here... Come – come on, you have to come back with us. Yuu's daughter is making dinner and everyone will be there. They'll be so happy to see you.'

Yoichi's grip is tight. His eyes are the hopeful eyes of the sixteen year old Mika first met, the one who had hugged him and insisted they were family even though Mika didn't care about him, didn't believe him. He had come to believe him. Yoichi had been right back then. And Yoichi had been Yuu's family, had been his family right until...

Mika's chest aches. Without thinking, he squeezes Yoichi's hand and the moment he does, Yoichi releases a small, nervous laugh and lifts his other hand to scratch at the back of his neck. The gesture is so painfully familiar that Mika is torn between wanting to break away and wanting desperately to believe in Yoichi again.

Yoichi will not have it any other way. It's like he knows there is a chance Mika might slip away again, like he hears the dark little voice in the back of his head that tells him there's nothing here for him anymore now that Yuu is dead, that there never was. Yoichi's tug on his hand tells him that there is.

Yoichi does not loosen his grip all the way to Yuu's daughter's home. He fends off Yuu's grandchildren's questions, tells Mika about Yuu's daughter, Mitsuba's large family, his travels with Kimizuki after Yuu had been married.

Mika listens, doesn't say a word, and tries not to shrink back as Yoichi brings his missing years to life.

Finally, they stand in front of a navy door and Yuu's granddaughter steps forward to unlock it. Yoichi holds Mika back until little Mikaela has pushed past his sister, crowing that they have another guest. Mika fixes his eyes on broken flower pot by the front door and feels small and lost, like the war never ended.

He can hear Yuu's daughter chastising her son in the hallway. If he looks up, he'll be able to see her, the woman whose birth he never shared the excitement of, the woman he should have seen grow up. He does not belong here.

Yoichi gives his hand a squeeze. 'Akane,' he calls softly.

Mika looks up in spite of himself. A woman appears on the doorstep. She has Yuu's green eyes and her black hair falls in a plait over her shoulder. Little Mikaela clutches at the back of her stained apron. There is no doubting who she is.

'This is Mika,' Yoichi says, somehow manoeuvring Mika in front of him before he can do anything about it. 'My dear family member and friend.'

Akane – oh how Mika wishes he had seen the look on Yuu's face when he had first seen her, had chosen to name her after their sister, after the strongest girl they'd known – Akane smiles, understanding dawning in her eyes. And Mika finds himself trying to return it.

'Akane,' he says, trying the name on his tongue. 'It's uh... it's nice to finally meet you.' His voice cracks. He can't look at her.

She steps back from the door, gesturing for him to come in, but says nothing. Mika hesitates until he feels Yoichi's hand give his back a gentle push. As he steps tentatively across the threshold, Akane touches his arm.

Mika stops in his tracks.

'Mika,' she says with a wide smile. 'Dad told me I wasn't allowed to let you in unless I gave you his message.'

Mika's heart sinks in his chest. He swallows something thick in his throat. Akane is still smiling.

'Welcome home,' she says.

And Mika breaks.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always any comments (including constructive criticism) are greatly appreciated.

I hope everyone had a great week!