The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname

Bloodless

May
18

Kyouka dreams sometimes of her mother, her old life, the before that might have been. She dreams sometimes of the future, of Atsushi and the Armed Detective Agency, of eating tofu on bright summer days.

A knife is in her hand. You have to kill in order to save them.

She stares at the blade and whispers to herself, “No.” Those days are behind her. Demon Snow is behind her, sword out, eyes blank and promising.

“No,” Kyouka says and throws herself into battle to fight the enemy and save whoever her dream has concocted.

She wakes with bloodless hands.

Free Day

May
18

It was a free day, more than she should have asked for, more than she should have wanted, but Atsushi let her take it and fate did not take it back. A day of sightseeing, crepes, childhood returned to her for a few precious hours with one who felt like a true friend by her side.

It didn’t matter if she went to the police station at the end of it, it didn’t even matter what happened at the end of it: for one day, Kyouka could be truly happy before the rest of her life—and pain—would resume.

Growing Pains

May
17

Every time Akutagawa strikes her, it’s nipping on the heels of failure and leading a lesson by its throat. Kouyou-san frowns in clear displeasure when she sees the bruises that bloom across Kyouka’s skin, but her hands are gentle and the cloth cool as she bathes them.

“Tell Ryuunosuke not to hit your face,” Kouyou-san says with the hard voice of a Port Mafia executive. “The Port Mafia values your beauty.”

There are many messages wrapped in layers around Kouyou-san’s words and tongue, lessons delivered with honey rather than stinging pain.

Still somehow, Kyouka feels them ache in her bones.

My Eyes Shall See Another Day

May
17

Izumi Kyouka was prepared to die. She’d stood before the weretiger, willing to die to fight her and save everyone else, willing to save even her from the bomb she wore. He couldn’t save her and she’d sentenced herself to death.

He saved her. She had killed so many, blood on Demon Snow’s sword, and she deserved to be punished, to be executed, so she walked herself to justice before he saved her again.

He didn’t understand, but Dazai did when he finally told her she could redeem herself.

She’d chosen execution. Sacrifice was no more fearful.

Kyouka saved them.

That Moment of Peace

May
15

A moment of peace, rain falling gently against the windows, the scent of fire and red aura mingling with mundane smells of an apartment shut up against the weather, stale scents of breakfast and cigarette smoke.

It’s rare and remarkable for highly ranked blue and red clansman to share that moment of peace together.

Seri lets her wary edge slowly fade before Izumo’s openness. He seems so close to his king, in ways she doesn’t have with the Captain. Friends.

She looks at him talking about friends and wonders a little to herself if this is what that feels like.

On Duty

May
15

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.

Pain and the Promise

May
15

Mikoto could take a lot of punishment, harsh hands, hard surfaces under his body as Munakata slammed him into wall, street, even ground if he could manage it. Pain and the promise of it, rough and the bite of bright aura that wasn’t Mikoto’s.

He laughed, eyes alight with power and pleasure.

Munakata’s smug face was just right as he wrought actual pain and bruises on a nearly untouchable king. It didn’t feel like the rush of power or the nightmares and regrets that plagued him. It felt like something he didn’t have to think or worry about. Something real.

Castles

May
14

The first time Cor saw sand, he ran across the beach with giggles and bare feet, not even noticing the stinging heat and grit. Zana watched with a smile and settled down to build castles.

He came back over, curiously, after her towers began to rise from the sand, looked with wide eyes, never touching. She was raising him at essentially a spaceport. He knew to keep his fingers away from delicate things.

But he was her little brother. She took his small hands and showed him how to shape and pat and firm the walls.

“Our castle,” she said.

Start a Fire

May
09

He was lighting a cigarette when Seri asked curiously, “How precise are you with that?”

Izumo stopped, stared at her for a moment, then smiled. “How precise do you want me to be?”

She shot him a look he could read easily, Don’t get too cocky. But her expression turned speculative, finger running over the lighter cap. “Hot but not painful.”

Which meant getting very close but not touching her skin. He glanced appreciatively over her skin again as she stretched out on the bed.

“You sure?” he asked one more time.

“Get on with it,” she commanded.

“Yes, Seri.”

Beneath the Moonlight

May
08

There was soft singing coming out of Kyouka and Atsushi’s dorm room. It was late at night and both of them should have been asleep but while Atsushi was, in at least a manner of speaking, Kyouka had wakened with the tiger.

The tiger was sprawled across the bedding comfortably in the shape of a crescent moon, tail twitching back and forth in contentment as it purred under Kyouka’s gentle hand rubbing along its flank. She sang quietly as it stared at her with great lantern eyes, bright in the darkness.

It was not the tiger only who was content.

Thunderstorm

May
07

Thunder cracked and lightning lit up the entire inside of the bedroom. Anna shot up out of the covers, blinking at the brightness. She wasn’t scared. Not even a little bit. Nope.

She scrambled out of bed and crept down the hall, shivering at the continuing flashes and thunderclaps overhead. She reached the couch where Totsuka had crashed earlier, pulled back the blanket, and crawled underneath.

“Huh?” Totsuka stirred, blinking at Anna in sleepy surprise.

Thunder rumbled then snapped. Her grip on the blanket tightened.

“You’re not scared, are you?”

“No,” she said.

Totsuka smiled but tucked her in close.

No Reason at All

May
07

They had lived together before. Yata had seen Saruhiko clothed and unclothed, half asleep with his hair sticking up or neatly put together in formal wear. There was really no reason on the first night they were rooming together again that he should be gobsmacked by the sight of his best friend wandering out of the shower wearing nothing but a towel.

Saruhiko ran a hand through his hair absently, new scars and new muscle visible on his lean frame, and he looked good.

Saruhiko blinked at him. “Are you burning dinner?”

Yata swore and snatched it off the burner.

Succession

May
07

“Princess.”

A pause, a silent gap stretching out into the distant horizon and over the edge—

“Your parents are dead.”

—war.

She closed her eyes, no longer listening to details that only confirmed what she’d already known. Pain, crashing, screaming of metal and flesh rending open to space—

Pain.

“My princess—”

“Queen,” she corrected quietly. She opened her eyes, collected herself, and rose to go find her brothers, dismissing the servant with a gesture. She let her bodyguards flank her down the too empty corridors to her oldest brother’s study.

“King,” she greeted him.

“Queen,” he greeted back.

Bloom

May
07

“You look just like a flower,” Kouyou told Kyouka, petting her hair gently and tucking a blossom behind her ear. “You’re beautiful.”

Kouyou smiled, and for just a moment, Kyouka felt warm in the light of that affection and didn’t think about what she would have to do. Then she remembered.

“Don’t fret, Kyouka-chan,” Kouyou told her and took her fingers lightly to guide her as they walked. “It’s your first job. Everyone’s a little nervous their first time, but I’ll take care of you.” Her fingers squeezed reassuringly.

It felt like a warning, or a promise.

“I’ll help you.”

Pretend a Little Longer

May
06

Chuuya woke up in his own apartment, blinking eyes open to familiar aching pain of aftermath. There were other familiar things: annoying singing in an all too familiar voice, the sound of shoes on his floor.

“No shoes,” he said before he stopped to think. “Shitty Mackerel,” he added, teeth gritting around the words. He peeled himself out of the covers to sit up gingerly.

“Chuuya! You’re awake,” Dazai singsonged, coming in close.

For a moment, a breath, they were teenagers again, before Chuuya remembered this was all wrong and he had no partner. “Dazai.” He didn’t kick him out.

Mistletoe

May
03

She’d scrupulously avoided the mistletoe. Seri was pleased with the Captain as her King and liked him well enough when he chose to mingle during holiday parties, such as at Christmas, but not well enough to let him kiss her for spirit or tradition. The one subordinate who’d suggested she’d yet to try the mistletoe had visibly wilted under her unamused stare.

It was well after HOMRA’s party by the time she went over, everyone cleared out or asleep except Kusanagi.

“Here for your free drink?”

“No.” She paused under the mistletoe.

He stared, surprised, but didn’t keep her waiting.

Simple Pleasures

May
01

Ide’a stared long enough that Mihzät finally turned around with an exasperated sigh and demanded, “What?”

“You got your ears pierced,” Ide’a said, gaze flitting between Mihzät’s ears and his face, a flat, almost unreadable expression on his own.

But Ide’a wasn’t truly unreadable, not to Mihzät. There was a little wonder there, surprised faint pleasure.

Mihzät blushed, suddenly conscious that he was finally wearing the earrings Ide’a had given him a year ago and of what such a gift actually meant. “Yeah.”

Ide’a leaned over and kissed him softly just behind his ear, making Mihzät shiver. “I like them.”

Mutual Support

Apr
30

“Seri?” Kusanagi blinked in surprise at recognizing the person behind the largest pile of boxes from shopping he’d ever seen. “Would you like some help?”

She studied him warily around her pile, not a look he was unfamiliar with.

“You certainly helped me enough with Anna and the Slates,” he said quietly.

Man to woman, there was always tension between them, but Seri softened when he said that. Clansman to clansman, they’d always been able to communicate.

“Certainly. Thank you,” she said with the snap of authority in her voice she’d mastered long ago.

Then she buried him in boxes.

Wake Up Call

Apr
26

Mihzät woke up feeling oddly warm.

(more…)

Beautiful

Apr
24

She was beautiful, truly beautiful, and he didn’t just think that because she was hot.

Kusanagi enjoyed watching Seri take charge of her clansmen with firm authority and easy competence. He admired her elegance and the way she’d sometimes soften her expression when she cared. He liked that they could talk comfortably about their mutual difficulties taking care of their clans.

“Always a pleasure, Seri.” He smiled when she found her way into his bar, ordered her horrible drink, sipped it slowly.

“Surely you jest,” she commented, eyebrow raised.

“Why wouldn’t I be pleased to serve such a beautiful woman?”