The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname

Soft Spot


Mikoto was like the kind of big cat that let kids crawl all over him. Particular kids. Just two really.

Anna could snuggle up right next to him and even tuck her hand into his without even a grunt of protest. Totsuka could make Mikoto his own personal blanket if he wanted and Mikoto wouldn’t do more than sigh.

He never failed to complain whenever Kusanagi encroached on nap space in an attempt to sit down, but then again, Mikoto may have been audibly put upon but he let Kusanagi sit down anyway.

“Softie,” Kusanagi teased.

Mikoto’s grumpy glare notwithstanding.

On Duty


Munakata hadn’t forgotten Mikoto or the position Mikoto had willingly placed him in, forcing him to play executioner with little regret. He didn’t doubt his Lieutenant, never for a moment, but Munakata found himself reluctant to force her to slay him the way he had Mikoto.

A backup plan, one she could hardly miss, a blatant admission of his own weakness, but Awashima Seri shared his particular weakness, the inability to walk away from their own duty.

This wasn’t her duty. He’d given it to another. Even so, he should have known, she would do what needed to be done.



Mikoto had never had alignment testing. It was usually obvious from appearances whether someone needed comfort when hurt or needed to give it when someone else was.

But his family hadn’t cared and neither had he, and somewhere along the way he realized he didn’t feel either.

But he let them comfort him, Tatara and Izumo, when they noticed him brooding, let Tatara try and amazingly succeed at drawing him out of his worst aftermaths. And he let them draw comfort, Anna sitting next to him, claiming his attention with a small hand.

He didn’t feel broken for the lack.