Kerosene

She wasn't at all scared or even the faintest bit worried. Any other girl of her age and in her position would by now be wailing and sniffling in terror, no doubt. She was more confused as to the logic of the unfamiliar men sprinkled around her than concerned for her own well-being. She wondered whether or not they had fully weighed the consequences behind making such a bold move. Perhaps the reason it had been so unexpected was due to its being too foolish to even attempt.

In hindsight, it had been her own fault, for falling too far behind Yata and the other boys. It was rare for her to harbor any interest in leaving the comfort and security of Mikoto's side, and it was even rarer that Izumo condoned her going anywhere without him or the king when she adventurous. As much as she adored the two men, the only other thing she ever desired for herself was to be just as close with the rest of HOMRA as she was with them. So, on occasion – and when she was feeling brave – she would tag along with the boys when they went out for a "leisurely" stroll through the city, regardless of Izumo's misgivings. As much as they all trusted and respected each other, Izumo particularly didn't trust them with her. They had hearts of gold but, when it came to responsibility, they were too young and reckless to be relied upon.

She hoped he wouldn't be too hard on them, and she hoped Mikoto wouldn't get mad – he rarely did and even when he was, it was hard to tell. It had been devious on her part to go off with them that day. She'd slipped off the bar-stool when Izumo's back was turned to join them just before they left and they were more than happy to have her along. She'd been distracted with something in a shop window – with the group still carrying on without knowing she was lingering – when the strange men snatched her from behind. Recalling the sudden event brought her back to her present thoughts. Although she didn't think much of herself as a true member of HOMRA in regards to "business," she didn't take for granted her position as a family member. She knew that HOMRA would do anything for her, and if she were older and stronger, she'd do the same for them – she didn't feel like she could do much for them with how she was now. So, she knew it was only a matter of time before they came and got her. There was no reason to panic, not on her part.

"Hey, Boss," one of the members of the rag-tag gang said into the echoing space of the warehouse. "D'ya really think this was such a good idea?"

She almost giggled with how aligned his words were with her thoughts. There was no reason she couldn't have laughed out loud, since the guns they were all carrying clearly weren't meant to be aimed at her. They were surprisingly gentle kidnappers. They hadn't done much to make her feel threatened, not even tying her up, and she hadn't put up much of a struggle that might warrant such restraints – she knew full well that she was too small to be very effective against them. The one man that suddenly voiced his doubts had been particularly worrisome over her, constantly sending her nervous glances as if to make sure she was still unharmed. She wondered if he was a father outside of being a criminal. The leader of the gang sent the man a venomous look.

"Don't question me! I don't care what the rumors say, they're not supernatural gods and all that shit. They'll come and it'll be with the money. Now, shut up!"

The timid looking man with the gun shaking in his hands quickly clamped his mouth shut. She sincerely hoped that he would survive. In the meantime, she waited patiently, sitting on an empty stack of crates with her hands folded in her lap, until she was rescued.

Quite some time passed before the gangsters started uncertainly claiming that they "heard something" but, it was paranoia for the most part. If HOMRA had arrived, they'd have made their presence abundantly clear. Stealth wasn't their style; they were all about intimidation.

And nothing was more intimidating than having the warehouse doors blown off their hinges without the slightest breath of warning that someone was on the other side. It certainly earned a few embarrassingly high yelps from some of the gang members but, the loud blast didn't startle her much. She could always sense when one of her clansmen were nearby and she knew he was coming well before he'd found them. She was a little surprised that he'd come to deal with this on his own. She must have misjudged the severity of the situation – he only came by himself when a matter was personal.

Mikoto's entrance was preceded by the sharp crackling of flames, unique in their intensity only to the Red King. He paused a step through the cleared doorway to observe the scene, his expression stern and impassive, as always. However, Anna caught something a little different about it today. No one else might have noticed it, as no one else was so attuned to every nuance of his demeanor like she was. There was a certain hardness to his burnt yellow gaze, more callous and immovable then was per usual. It was a forced calm, a barricade against the mythical rage that the whole city had penned him to have. She'd never seen it herself; she didn't think anyone had really seen it, since she doubted that it might even exist – that it was just another HOMRA fairytale the people liked to tell about them.

Now she could see that there might be some merit to those rumors after all. The little gang of kidnappers definitely believed it. She looked to their leader – hardened by unfortunate circumstance and down on his luck – who had seemed to completely forget that he had a hostage and had demanded money for her, which paying had clearly never come close to passing through Mikoto's mind.

The Red King stalked into the warehouse, vermilion sparks at his feet and his aura pulsating violently around him. The temperature grew considerably warmer with his approach but, she didn't think it was the heat that made the other men sweat. He paid them little regard, eyes on Anna, rifling through a checklist of all the harm that hadn't been done to her as far as he could tell by first glance. She blinked once, wondering why he was so intent upon ignoring her kidnappers. It was unlike him not to burn his enemies on the spot. She pondered his motives in the heavy silence and was startled when the harsh bang of a gunshot shattered that silence.

Mikoto stopped where he was, midway across the floor. The hasty bullet bounced against the concrete, just at the edge of where his aura writhed against the air, having been unable to penetrate the dense flames. Mikoto's passive façade flickered with annoyance but, he restrained himself from retaliating automatically. The look he sent Anna baffled her and she would go on analyzing it in her head for the remainder of that day. In their special, voiceless language that could be heard through the slightest shift of one's gaze, he told her to cover her eyes. Her fair brows came together in confusion and she asked why. He didn't give her an answer, staring long and hard at her until she conceded to his command. It worried her for a moment when the tone of his unspoken words almost sounded pleading and it was that which convinced her to do as he asked.

She raised her small hands over her eyes in compliance with his orders. Once her sight was shielded, the taut leash on his power's snapped. The thunder of scarlet flames was deafening, smothering the sounds of desperate guns firing and the howls of the gangsters as they fell. The fierceness of the blaze tingled against the outsides of her hands, temptingly. She couldn't resist separating her fingers just a crack to catch a glimpse of that deep, beautiful red in all its glory.

Jets of cardinal ferocity lashed at the gunmen, melting the stray bullets mid-shot before catapulting the shooters off their feet. The flames swelled with growing fury, licking rampantly along the walls and scorching mercilessly at their victims. Even more fascinating than watching the dancing shades of garnet brilliance, was the man standing at its heart. It took hardly a turn of his head to focus the energy, condensing it into a stronger pulse for each individual. His hands never left his pockets and his feet never moved from where he'd already placed them. There was a patient savagery in his face, completely reliant on the unpredictable nature of his abilities to exact proper vengeance. It was terrifying, yet lovely in its magnificence.

As the pained screams of the burned died into unconsciousness, so too did the flames, their ravenous hunger for destruction satiated. Anna was quick to close her fingers before Mikoto realized she'd disobeyed him – not that she feared getting scolded. The fiery aura simmered to nothing with a final crackle and the steady, unhurried thump of his gait continued towards her. Anna chanced to lower her hands, unperturbed by the still bodies scattered around the building's open space. He stood before her, radiating an impatience in wanting to scoop her up, get her out of there, and put her back in her seat at the bar without taking his eyes off her for the rest of her life. Anna looked down, feeling ashamed of herself for making him worry. She opened her mouth, about to apologize when she was distracted by a sound off to her left.

Mikoto's head snapped towards it, instantly protective. Anna recognized it as the man whom had kept silently fussing over her - he must have hidden himself back behind a pile of crates before the firefight broke out. Mikoto only viewed him as an over-looked threat. The red aura bled back into his golden irises, making the already shaking stranger cry out in distress and raise his hands in surrender.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he repeated to the Red King, on his knees and bowing his head profusely.

Mikoto wasn't endeared by the reverent display, the atmosphere surrounding him starting to kindle back to life. The man must have sensed the change. His apologies quickly escalated to hysterically begging to be spared from the king's wrath. Anna wasn't sure that he would have been if she didn't speak up.

"Mikoto…"

The king kept the stranger caught in his glare and, outwardly, it didn't seem as if he was considering letting the man go, unscathed. The fact that his aura had yet to reappear was the only proof of his hesitation. Sighing in reluctance, Mikoto turned back to her and the man took that to his advantage, scrambling to his feet and bolting for the dented warehouse doors. Anna gave Mikoto a grateful glance, however, his eyes weren't on her, looking unhappily at nothing in particular as he listened to the man's receding footsteps behind him. His eyes still steeped in the molten aura, Mikoto tapped one heel against the ground and the gesture sent a quick spurt of power after the man to whip against the backs of his legs. It was only upon hearing the unmanly squeal and quickened retreat that Mikoto smirked in satisfaction, allowing his aura to recede completely.

Anna toyed slowly with the fabric of her dress when he fixed her in his stare again. She knew he wasn't angry at her and that he would be the first to tell her not to be ashamed of being caught like she had. Still, the thought of him and HOMRA getting sick with concern for her well-being made her un-easy. She treasured their love for her, but she hated to be the cause of their anxiety.

"Sorry," she murmured, her thin fingers curling above her knees.

One brow rose to indicate a request of clarification for her apology, which she readily supplied.

"For falling behind," she said, turning her face down once more.

He was quiet, turning her words over in his head, unable to comprehend them. Why would she blame herself for the actions of the idiots that had dared to cross him? If anything, he was to blame. It shouldn't have been a hazard for her to simply go for a walk. But, there was nothing he could do to change that. So long as they hadn't been stupid enough to actually hurt her, he could live with himself for another day. He would just have to be better at looking out for her. For now, there was no reason to put blame on anyone other than the unconscious criminals. To convince her of that he finally spoke, drawing her reflective gaze back up to meet his.

"Always hold onto someone," he told her, dragging a hand through his hair in exhaustion. "They won't mind. That way, they know you're safe and you know they're safe."

Anna's guilt-ridden expression lightened with a small, understanding smile. She knew that she should have. It was just that she was so accustomed to holding onto him – and only him – that placing her hand in anyone else's seemed almost unnatural to her. Maybe he heard her say so without her speaking it and that was why he offered his hand up to her then. It was all she could do not to clutch at it and hold on for dear life. Relief washed through her with the return of his warmth, her hand feeling as if it were thawing after a deep freeze as it was surrounded by his again.

The king helped the princess down from her throne until she alighted at his side, safe and sound. Without another word, he led her back home, un-rushed and at ease that he had her back with every hair on her head undisturbed and every crease of her dress unruffled. It appeared as if he'd already put the incident behind him, and if Anna wasn't so used to the pressure of his hand around hers that she might not have noticed the way it was squeezing a little bit tighter, she may have believed he had. He might have believed the same of her if he didn't feel her holding on just as tightly as he was.

A/N: And there go my feels.

Remember when K was just a really confusing but, really fantastic show that gave you a few punches of feels here and there but, nothing so devastating that it destroyed your entire reason for existing? Those were good times, and that's when I had started this fic. I must have spent the whole month after December 27th pretending that I never started it because I couldn't even think of writing Mikoto after...that. I powered through finishing it today because I wanted it out of the way before I start my next K project (heh, heh, seewhatididthere?) and I was a blubbering mess of feelings by the time I had finished it. Why, oh why, did I write the ending like that? *headxdesk*

Anyway, not much else to say about this. I kind of like it - better than my last K fic anyway. It's much, MUCH easier to write Mikoto from an outside perspective as opposed to working from the inside out - at least, it was for me anyway.

Drop me a review if you've got the time! Constructive criticisms are greatly welcomed. (And if you just want to just, you know, cry about K that's fine too. :'()