Red In Our Ledgers

Correspondence from the desk of Kushina Anna:

I can read them. They still wonder if I'm stable, if my nights are still void of sleep, sick with grief and terrors. It is understandable after being in the dark for so long.

So I've tried to make myself unreadable. The boys have worried over me enough. Maybe I ended up growing a backbone after all- possibly something you can be proud of. There are times I think a backbone is a useless thing to have. Seeing and feeling so many things that I can't control has always felt like a faithless struggle to me.

And I still keep my thoughts to myself. It is safer that way and I think that's what you always believed as well. We were never much for talking, you and I- one of the things I appreciated most about you. So many things; it stings to think of them still.

The child I was remains a part of me. It is as if I'm still clinging to your side.

But now it has become clear there was a reason I longed for the past so terribly. Bits and pieces of it are returning to us, at last. Did you leave us knowing this time would come?

Misaki Yata was chosen to rise as the next red king almost a full year ago. There is a long, hazy span of time from the day you left us leading up to then that I would almost rather forget. When everyone disbanded, after struggling to hold ourselves together, the scenery of the world changed. Even as a child it was like watching the dearest thing to me fall apart. A little girl without her family would be an orphan after all.

Only, I was lucky enough to have Izumo looking after me. You would laugh at the very idea, I'm sure. There were times when I felt cold and lost enough to give up, and his hand simply ruffling my hair would steady me, keep me going. Little gestures made all the difference. He kept up the bar just as faithfully, and pretended that everything was business as usual for the longest time. No one could fault him for trying to retain normalcy, especially while having me as a responsibility. It didn't feel strange at all, just sort of empty at times. A quiet life might have almost suited us.
Still, I had gone so long without that soothing, gorgeous red. Is it so selfish of me to have wanted that back?

Fortunately...

His presence was so strong to me, even before the day Izumo received the call from that identified number. I had felt him from a distance. With fire in his eyes. Misaki would gather us together again. He commanded it. And the boys returned as loyally as they would to you. Even though they are older now, the auras have given them back a part of who they once were. It was like turning back time itself.
I wish-

If only you could have seen him for the first time after all these years. With more strength in his presence than I could have ever imagined and the bearing of a man fierce enough to bare the mark of a king. Everything he put himself through after your parting from this world was a test of will, in that time when he was lost to us. It is difficult for him to talk about, but one day he will open up. I know it.

And he's so strict on himself now; self-conscious of the fact that he is so naturally impulsive. It is as if he's trying to live up to being worthy of the title you once carried. The one you did not even want- I'm not sure if he wanted this either. But that has nothing to do with being chosen, now does it?

He fears making any kind of mistake. You were never this tense; sometimes I fear he might break. But the old Yata is still there somewhere. Everyone knows that. He has grown to where he can laugh with us again at times, and that mouth of his is as loud and brash as ever. His red is lovely, like a guiding light, but hesitant now. I do wonder if his will ever come close to feeling the way yours did.

Naturally Yata has grown restless in forcing himself to be careful. It is only due to how long we have bided our time, waited until conditions were right- for our king to be ready- to assert our clan's position again.
Will it feel the same? Being feared again?

Our hearts can bear talking about you again, at last. He's given us the strength to remember and your name has become another battle cry of ours. We have not forgotten. That isn't possible.

We do not have the luxury of doubting ourselves now that the time has come. We are the lost children, returned home at last. I've read the signs and felt the warmth return to my blood.
HOMRA will burn bright enough for you to see again, Mikoto. That truly is all we want.

.

The young woman sealed the envelope tight. How embarrassing. All these embellished hopes and recollections. Silently she tucked it away where no one would care to find it- locked within an unassuming cherrywood box on the shelf- just before a knock sounded against the door.
She stiffened.

"They're here. With their terms," a familiar male voice came from the other side of the door, "at least that's what they're calling them."

HOMRA's princess would take her stand. If things came to blows that evening, well, it would be just like old times. Without thinking she smirked to herself.
But no one would see it, not as she opened the door to find the entire clan waiting for her. With a congregation of old faces and new all around- expressions cocky, affirmed somehow by her presence- Anna could almost pretend she had stepped into the past.
Even if his side was not there to cling to.

Daintily, quietly she uttered, like a prayer, "Let's give them hell then."

.