Plot summary: Saruhiko is a rich boy who serves the King he owes his life to and sees the world in gray colors. Misaki is a part of the Red Clan rebels who performs, steals and uses magic. How will their fates play out, when there are so many differences between them and magic is considered the greatest sin?

Pairings: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki (appearance of others)

Rating: T (may rise)

Chapter one: Dreams of Red

'Try your best to avoid those magic users from the Red Clan, once they will target you, you will be broke, left without a single gold coin. Don't let that filthy charm get to you, they're all a bunch of hoodlums.'

Fushimi Saruhiko remembers the rumors and tales he's heard about the Red Clan, but he is not taken by any of those. The warnings old rich women give their young snobby children so that they would stay away from the slums infested with magic users and witches, ring somewhere in the back of his head as he looks up at the starry night sky illuminated by red fire. He's on guard that particular night. From the corner of his eye he spots his subordinates having the time of their lives, drinking and cheering, faces red from the cheap vine, women by their side. They are enjoying themselves without a care in the world and Fushimi clicks his tongue agitated. They were on a mission that night. It appeared that the scum of their Kingdom were playing the good guys again and stealing from the rich district, taking everything they could. Fushimi could care less about those swine, he had a huge dislike for the rich people even if he was one of them, His Majesty's Munakata Reisi's most loyal dog, or so they called him, the third in command of Scepter knights. A man with power and graceful charm.

It was a joke for him to just be here, watching this façade. The King was a smart man, he probably knew that Fushimi was the only one fit for the job without forgetting what the job was in the first place. Sighing in defeat, Saruhiko clicked his tongue and turned his eyes towards the platform, mild curiosity in his eyes. Over the sea of heads he looked at tonight's main attraction. There, dressed in glaringly red and golden clothes performed the aforementioned hoodlums from the Red Clan, that called themselves Howling Flame. Another burst of crimson flames lit up the night sky, dyeing it orange and the crowd awed and cheered even louder, giving the young man an even bigger headache. Just a few looks at the illuminated eyes of these people and he could already tell that the crowd's been mesmerized by those pathetic magic users. A few more minutes and half of them will be left butt naked, robbed of every single valuable thing. Saruhiko closed his blue eyes and tried to calm himself, dispelling the useless charm and turned his eyes towards the dancers again, searching for any potential thieves that people mostly described. They worked in pairs or small groups they said. Before you even had the chance to react, you were alone without a single coin on you, a single piece of jewelry. They sent out the short ones, mostly with dark hair and slender bodies. The most dangerous one is that kid… that kid who runs like the wind and the only thing you see is the whiff of auburn hair and a flash of red. He goes by the name of…

"Yatagarasu…" a wild smile adorned Saruhiko's face as he looked at the platform that seemingly exploded in the flash of red and the Red Clan's most valued performer came into the view. A whip of scorching heat in the chilly night air hit Saruhiko's face and the man quickly started making his way through the crowd towards the platform, excitement pumping in his veins, eyes never leaving the agile boy. It was indeed true what the people said, he could barely keep his eyes off him, flashes of red illuminating his auburn hair, naked waist, reflecting images of fire in those metal bracelets around his arms and legs. His movements mesmerized Saruhiko, so fast and precise, the loose cloth of his blood colored pants that loosely swished around the short teens thighs accenting his water like movements and the dark haired youth knew that he was genuinely impressed, no pitiful charm affecting his curiosity. Finally peeling away from the rowdy crowd he found himself a perfect spot, closer to the front, right in front of the beautiful youth and the next few minutes felt like absolute heaven to the usually cold hearted Saruhiko. The glaringly red eyes met his own blue ones and a shiver of excitement traveled down the spine of Saruhiko's body, making him tense, muscles twitching slightly. He saw a small smirk gracing the auburn haired male's face, eyes glazing with some sort of emotion, making the short boy look even more sinful and attractive. With careful movements Saruhiko watched how the pale fingers of the dancer quickly untied the golden scarf wrapped tightly around his hips, the silver circles sewn on the edge jangling with every movement he made as he brought the scarf around his head and tied it on the back, hiding the auburn locks from the black haired man's view. Without turning away, eyes still locked with Saruhiko's, the boy whistled, a sound that rang clear over the music and the abnormally loud noise of the crowd. A man with straw colored hair appeared behind him also dressed in dark red (Saruhiko vaguely noticed that the man was performing just before the great Yatagarasu appeared) and threw a white shirt towards his colleague. Without even bothering to look back, the young boy flawlessly caught it, putting it on without bothering to button it up and made a clear beeline towards Saruhiko who was caught in some sort of trance. The dark haired man vaguely heard some complaints from the crowd around him, but he was too entranced to even care, eyes following every movement the shorter one made. His eyes roamed freely the slim body and all the noises around him seemed to have died down only leaving him and this beauty before him, colors blurring until the only thing he could see was the petite figure slowly approaching him much like a lion who was about to pounce his prey. Saruhiko released a breath he did not know that he was holding, and swallowed. Yatagarasu was indeed quite a sin. A simple person would have lost all of his senses right now. Just then the youth passed him, stopping close, their shoulders almost brushing against each other. He was short, really short Saruhiko thought. Probably around fourteen years old, if not younger, a good four-three years younger than Saruhiko himself, who was about to turn seventeen this autumn. All the dark haired youth could do was to stare down at those mesmerizing eyes, a beautiful color of brown still illuminated by the faint red light before them, and he felt himself drowning. Another playful smile was sent his way, and wordlessly the short teen started moving forward, diving through the crowd with slow experienced movements like a fish in the water and Saruhiko couldn't do anything but to helplessly follow, eyes focused on that golden scarf jangling in front of him. It took them a few seconds or were those minutes Saruhiko thought to finally leave the bustle of people and before he knew the dancer was all over him. The dark haired youth's back hit the cold stony wall behind him in a district he did not recognize, the faint sounds of cheerful masses in the night betraying that they had gone quite a way, without him even noticing. The knight clenched his teeth and clicked his tongue, looking down at the teen in front of him who was tightly pressed against his chest, face slightly illuminated by a flickering flame that shone ways ahead of them surrounded by moths attracted to its bright light. Saruhiko found it quite ironic, since he felt like he was a moth himself and Yatagrasu was a flame, alluring and bright. If he was to get too close, he might get burned. But if that fire was to be extinguished, no longer shining…

He tried his best to keep the smile from showing on his face. Instead Saruhiko lidded his eyes and stared at the boy's face intensely. Yes, he was indeed a beautiful one; there was no use denying that, a flawless face, sharp features and big eyes. A small palm was placed on his chest and Yatagarasu whispered, words not really fitting for a boy of his age, the expression not doing it any justice. How… arousing.

"I saw you watching, Sir Knight." The taller man heard slight sarcasm in the other's tone, the drawl of it almost made a laugh escape him. "Did I catch your interest…?" the warm palm went over the dark haired man's chest over his heart. A look of confusion flashed in the shorter one's eyes, but his face remained the same, a perfect mask of seduction. Carefully standing on his tip toes, the short boy leaned in close, so close that Saruhiko could count the dark eyelashes covering the shorter one's brown eyes. Warm puffs of breath fanned against his lips, and the hand on his chest disappeared.

And just then the charm snapped and Saruhiko watched the brown eyes widen a look of fear, disbelief and shock crossed his face, only to be changed into an expression of pure anger.

"What the fuck—what's going on?" the short one shouted loudly. The thin wrist was tightly grabbed in Saruhiko's palm, fingers closed around it tightly, and the tips of the dancer's fingers mere inches away from the leather sack at the knight's side, full of gold. He tugged helplessly, trying to free his hand, the metal of his bracelets jangling angrily. An insane smile graced the knight's face and he laughed, watching the dancer flinch.

"Ah… you people from the Red Clan are hilarious.~ What was that weak charm you used on me? Anyone could break that thing, and you call yourself a magic user? Don't make me laugh, you weakling. Who taught you this? Your good for nothing poor witch infested family? Or could it be…" Saruhiko's gaze flickered from the angry face the teen was showing to his collar bone. The normal slave mark, a simple swirl, was distorted, flames added to the simple design."…that King of Thieves, the hope of you magician mendicants, Suoh Mikoto? Ah no wait, I hear that he's bad at magic, he teaches you violence and thievery right? It's his precious Totsuka Tatara right, that-"

Before he could even finish, the dancer's leg shot out from his side and delivered a swift kick into his shoulder. Taking the opportunity, the short male freed his arm and rubbed his sore wrist, eyes vivid and devilish, face twisted into a look of pure anger. A look Saruhiko absolutely loved.

"Don't you ever fucking dare to talk like that about Mister Mikoto and Mister Totsuka, rich boy. You know nothing about what they do for us; you just sit around in your fancy palace without a care in the world, play the Blue King's dog and burn down our houses with your purges. People die here, and don't you act like you know anything about it, bastard."

That seemed to have hit a nerve in Saruhiko, his eyes darkened and without a second thought, he drew his saber out. The light flickered against the glass of his glasses, the temperature seemed to have dropped, chilly night wind finally blowing out the faint flames flickering in the lantern. The only light that still shone on them was the faint glow of stars and a white sliver of moon covered in thin clouds. Saruhiko wouldn't have had it any other way. If he was to teach this poor kid a lesson, he'd rather not see the spiteful face, covered in bleeding gashes directed at him.

"I know nothing…? Hah, it is you who knows nothing, brat. It is no use to even reason with you. Hoodlums like you have no excuse to roam around and make others life shit, just because they have it bad. There is no good without bad, brat. Now you better turn yourself in, Yatagarasu or I will have to take you by force." The blade of Saruhiko's saber shone silver in the moonlight, a slight blue edge to it as he pointed it towards the petite boy, looking like he was about to pounce.

"Tche, bring it, rich boy." The dancer grinned, and without a second thought lunged forward. Saruhiko swung his saber, almost hitting him, but the quick boy dodged it with almost no effort, and tried to kick Saruhiko's legs to make him loose balance, making the taller one jump back and swing again, this time grazing the younger boy's shoulder. A hiss of pain escaped him and Saruhiko clicked his tongue in annoyance. His eyesight was already pitiful and now this darkness was interfering with his usually flawless movements, not to mention the dancer's speed and reaction were really annoying. He tried again, but the brat just jumped back, doing a back flip, twisted his body and got ready to kick him again. Saruhiko blocked him right in time, and the teen quickly jumped back on his feet, bracelets jangling and threw a punch, splitting the knight's lip, receiving a sharp slash against his ankle in return. The dancer stumbled back, trying to make as much distance as possible between him and the dark haired man. Angrily Saruhiko spit out the tangy blood from his mouth and pointed his sword towards the enemy.

"What's wrong, thief? Are you done already?" he growled, his head pounding. Exhilaration flew in his veins; it has been a while since he found himself a worthy opponent that could evade his slashes just like that, with almost no effort whatsoever. His eyesight finally got used to the dark and he saw the dancers grin widen. Something wasn't right… a jangle reached his ears, much heavier than the click clack of the boy's bracelets and scarf. His eyes widened in realization and he patted his free hand over his side. The leather bag… was missing.

The dancer started laughing hysterically, clutching his naked stomach. Saruhiko felt his eyebrow twitch and his cheeks flush with anger. How could he let his guard down just like that!?

"Hey, knight boy—haha… Looking for something?" the dancer shook the leather bag hard, letting the mocking clang of money fill the filthy alley they were in. "I thought they taught you these things, like not letting enemies get too close to you… I guess you really are that useless, huh?"
"You… Get back here, bastard!" Saruhiko growled and jumped forward. Of course just as he expected nothing came from it. The smaller boy effortlessly placed his fingers into a hole in between rocks and like a cat grabbed the metal pole sticking out just beside it, jumping on it. By the time Saruhiko got there, the dancer was already at the roof of the half ruined building, grinning at him the biggest shit eating grin Saruhiko's ever seen in his whole life, looking beyond self pleased. His black leather bag was shaken above him and the dark haired youth clicked his tongue, glaring at the magic user, eyes livid.

"It's been fun, Mister Knight." Yatagarasu teased him, voice strained as if trying to keep in a laugh. It made Saruhiko's blood boil. "Thanks for the money, rich boy, our 'poor pathetic magician people' will appreciate it more than you do. Better luck next time, ya loser!" the thief pulled at his lower eyelid and stuck his tongue out. Saruhiko was about to start bitching about it when a sharp whistle, the same that Yatagarasu used before resounded in the night air, and he saw the sky burn red once more. The dancer turned his head instinctively to the side and smiled. "Well, that's my call. Byesies, bastard, say hi to your King of Dogs for me."

And before Saruhiko could make a single complaint the dancer disappeared into the night. Anger flooded the knight and his arms shook wildly.

'This kid… damn magic user, almost had him. What a strong kick, what crazy movements… this is not over, Yatagarasu, I will get back at you for it, and don't you fucking doubt me. I will find you and lock you up for good. Stupid Suoh, stupid Red Clan and their whole act of trying to be the good guys. Protecting the poor magicians? Hah! All of the magic users need to die, freaks of nature that is what they are with their devil charms.' He placed a trembling hand over his rapidly beating heart. It still hadn't worn off, the charms that the small teen placed on him. It was a little weird though; the fast pulsing of heart should have kicked in around the time the youth placed his palm over his heart right… there. Shaking his head violently to rid himself of weird thoughts, Fushimi spun around on his heel and stalked off, towards the direction of the bright red sky where the night's festivities were held all the while wondering what kind of damage will the Red Clan do tonight. He still did not understand why His Majesty did not have all those Howling Flame's thieves arrested, especially that Suoh Mikoto person and allowed events such as these to occur all the time. It was hard to understand the young king, and everything the man did should not be questioned, the man could turn evil and sadistic in mere seconds, not afraid to show off his authority to everyone in the land. Just the mere thought made Saruhiko shiver. He failed his mission, fell right into the great Yatagarasu's trap, followed him obediently like a dog and did not manage to arrest him.

And he…

He left his subordinates in that maze of red. Left them charmed with Howling Flame's members roaming around freely. Cursing under his breath Fushimi took off running, hoping that the damage wouldn't be too great on the night he was supposed to keep watch.

Just like he expected, by the time he arrived, pure chaos had broken out. The platform was void of any life, people were rowdy, looking for their lost belongings.

His own subordinates stood there too, no money on them.

This was going to be one hell of a night.

Fushimi sighed as he dismissed the stupid subordinates of his into calling back up as a swarm of teary eyed women and angry drunk men surrounded him, complaining. To say the least it was the toughest night in Fushimi's whole seventeen years of living. He had worked till the sky turned bright; no traces of the Red Clan's members were found. Just when he was finally dismissed and hoped to get some good night's (mornings in this case) sleep, the King called him out. From the ever so passive Akiyama's expression he could already tell that the King was pissed beyond belief. And all the blame for this incident was going to be directed towards him.

After a long lecture and scolding from his King, who wasn't all too pleased with the turn of the events and Fushimi's story how one of Suoh's dancer's mesmerized him and pulled him into a trap, to which the King responded in that's why he was precisely sent there, to not get charmed like the rest of them since the dark haired youth was a 'special case', not to mention put in charge of it, Fushimi was beyond drained. Angrily he just bristled at the King to finally arrest Suoh Mikoto and to stop dancing around with him like it was a ballroom, earning a harsh slap on the side of his face and threats of getting dealt with his own insolence, the knight was excused. After dragging his feet for what seemed forever, not so secret whispers heard around him, most likely talking about him and his night's failures among the maids following him all the way, he finally reached his bedroom. Scaring the young maid in it that was wiping the huge windows, Saruhiko fell face forward into the fluffy bed, without bothering to take off his clothes and fell asleep.

Saruhiko dreams of red.

For as long as he could remember, ever since he was a little child that was taken in by the late king, he kept dreaming the same things, except the times he fell into a deep dreamless sleep. No one could actually explain it, why those dreams kept occurring. Some doctors said it was a trauma left from his sad childhood, something that will lead him for the rest of his life, incurable much like his poor eyesight, the few ladies that were experts in magic and were a must in the Blue King's castle, even if everyone discriminated them, treated them like abnormality, said that those were memories sealed away by his own power.

He tells the late King all about it, watching the cerulean eyes darken.

He's never seen those women in the castle again and a few days later he has forgotten all about them.

Saruhiko is a special case. Ever since he was a kid they kept repeating it over and over again. He was immune to spells and charms, one would call him a magic user, except he did not know how to use it. And he really did not want to. Magicians were evil, they twisted your image, planted illusions inside your head, is what he heard. He's seen the executions, the way they looked at you with those dead glistening eyes; he's been a witness to it all. He will never forget the time when an old woman who was sentenced for execution tried to curse him and the way her eyes shone. He was only thirteen years old back then, a clueless little lamb with its neck barred in front of wolfs, when the soon to be King Reisi appeared in front of him, shoved him roughly to the side plunging his saber into the woman's throat, no hesitation whatsoever.

'Don't ever look into a witch's eyes.' He said, shaking his saber to the sides trying to clean it. Drops of red splashed the pavement. 'It is an order, Fushimi.'

That night the King made a really huge feast, and Munakata was showered with praise and affection, to have such a majestic son that could kill the filth of their Kingdom so easily without any hesitance not waiting for the execution was perfection itself. Fushimi only took part in it, because it was absolutely necessary, since he was the one that Munakata saved, but excused himself as early as he could.

His dreams were the most vivid ones that night. Yet, he can't recall anything.

All Saruhiko knows is that they started becoming clearer since that day.

He dreams of red sky, red sunset, and red grass. Everything is bathed in that color, except for people and buildings. Those are black. In his dreams, he's almost always lying down and his face hurts for some reason. There are always people there, three or more of them, he doesn't know. They laugh and shout, cry. Spend time together. And Saruhiko is happy, because the people there are infecting him with their happiness. He doesn't see their faces, doesn't know what they are talking about, it's muted and he cannot make out a word they're saying, doesn't know their names, but their touches are real, so very real, warm palms hold his tiny hands, and he examines the bruises on the tiny knuckles of that person. Their hands are always dirty and bruised, Saruhiko notes, unlike now, pale and graceful. It is not just their hands, their knees are too, blood stains, a thin layer of dirt is there. He often complaints about it, asks them how they got it, the black shadows just laugh muted laughs and ruffle his hair in affection, and the evening's red sun is so blinding, that he feels like he's in heaven instead of earth.

Saruhiko dreams of the ones he loves. There is a hill, and a black tree there, illuminated leaves are glowing red. The grass is never green, it is stained crimson too. He is chasing someone, a black shadow there, and he wants to catch it more than anything. He searches and calls someone's name, a name he never knew, and the grass gently swishes against his waist, blown by the warm wind, tickling his thin arms.

He never caught that shadow, not even once. The shadow always finds him first, pouncing like a cat from the tall grass that almost hides him completely, scares Saruhiko like crazy, and laughs and Saruhiko laughs too, because he's happier than ever. They run towards each other and Saruhiko grabs the shadow's bruised muddy palms in his own.

He hates that part of his dreams the most.

The white smile on that coal colored face fades, and tears stream down the shadow's cheeks. Saruhiko panics and the person, the shadow, in front of him looks scared too, then its features change. Instead of looking down, Saruhiko needs to lift his face up, and there is a slim man, or a woman beside him, he's not sure, the hair is cut short, and the hands are rather feminine, but someone from before has those kinds of hands too and it is a male, so to this day he is not sure. His name is called and a bitter smile is given. It echoes in the vast field and the wind howls mockingly and everything is so red, red, red…

The field darkens and catches fire, scorching heat burns around them, the flames don't touch Saruhiko, and the heat burns his eyes, until he can barely see anything around him. The flames howl around him, and through teary eyes he sees the shadow burning away. He's scared, so scared, and the shadow smiles through tears a bitter smile that looks just like his, and the heat is too much, it continues to rise until Saruhiko passes out in his dreams and wakes up in reality, drenched in cold sweat, and his left shoulder burns, pain prickling at the scars on his torso.

He'd give anything for these dreams to stop. Either to stop or become clear, clear enough for him to see those faces, to see those people hidden behind black shadows. To see what he's been chasing for in his crimson dreams. To see those people in his dreams he loves more than his reality or the ones in his reality.

Did he ever truly love someone? No, he did not. Everything around his was dyed in a blank gray color, everyone was the same. People were boring and not intriguing at all, no one caught his interest. He was a man of power and graceful charm, well liked and influential. Well mannered when the situation called so, like a true monarch. Girls and men alike were attracted to his naturally handsome features and beautiful appearance, a strong aura of power surrounding him like a blanket. Saruhiko's never had troubles luring women into his bed, doing unspeakable things to them in order to please himself and not the rich, refined ladies that never failed too amuse him with their indecency and one would call him a sinful person. They still enjoyed it, yet any further relationship was strictly forbidden and rejected. Fushimi found the rebellious poor girls roaming the corners of the city more intriguing than the fake politeness the daughters of powerful and influential lords dressed in fancy silk dresses, cleavages out in the open, faces powdered and lips smudged with wax like tasting rosy lipsticks. It made him sick in his stomach now after all those years passed and he was already nineteen, a fully grown man, and the swarm of females seemed to have increased, dead set on catching his interest. Many times the King tried to find his loyal follower an appropriate date, tried setting him up with women, hoping that Fushimi would finally pick one and marry her, but it never worked and the dark haired man usually disappeared without another word before the night ended, and it always ended up with him going out for a drink into the more alive parts of the city, visiting the pubs Doumyouji gladly pointed out years back.

That one has great drinks, and the girls in that one are absolutely amazing. You need to be careful though, they are under the Red Clan's watch.

Yet Saruhiko never bothered to change into more common like clothes, and always went in his usual attire that he wore for formal meetings and balls, the one that screamed rich person. When he first started his nightly treks around the city, lots of people tried to steal from him and needless to say they were out cold before they could understand what was going on, and Saruhiko just carried on like nothing happened, not even bothering to look back. It has become somewhat a ritual to him to visit one of Red Clan's pubs in the middle of the night, lively as if it was only midday, grab a drink or two, enough to make his eyesight blur and his head fuzzy, grab a girl and take her back to the palace in absolute secret or go to a nearby hotel that he hated, since the dark haired man was a bit of a neat freak himself, the mere idea of fucking someone on a bed that was most likely used a few minutes ago disgusted him. He did not know why he kept bringing girls like that, maybe it was his way of trying to fill the empty void inside of him, but as the more time passed the less pleased he felt, and maybe what some of his love high subordinates and the King himself spouted about 'one true love' was actually true as cheesy as it sounded. But the world was so gray and boring, and nothing amused him anymore, where was he to find an individual that made his heart beat fast and the colors come back to his world even if only a little. Clicking his tongue in annoyance Fushimi looked through the window only to find it dark outside, since it was winter and all. Groaning he got up, ran his fingers through his messy hair and shook a dirty blonde haired woman beside him who was dozing of without a care in the world. Groggily she opened her brown eyes, so brown it pissed Saruhiko off beyond belief yet he did not know why. He has already slept in, a few more minutes and there would be maids banging his door, trying to wake him up. Today was a special day afterall.

She opened those sickly plump lips of her and tried to say something sweet but before she had the chance, Saruhiko barked at her to get dressed and get the hell out. Offended, she rose up, not minding the fact she was naked, collected her clothes strewn across the floor, angrily murmuring expletives underneath her breath. What a refined lady. Her rich daddy must be very proud to have a charming daughter such as her. Fushimi just stared in mild amusement as she dressed herself, trying to fix her appearance and left, slamming the oak door hard enough to shake the frame. With a sigh Saruhiko fell into the covers that smelled like sex and cinnamon and thought about feigning a headache, when there was knocking on his door just as he predicted.

"Sir Fushimi…? Are you up? The feast will start in a few hours; we need to fix you up. The King will be expecting you before tonight's festivities. He says it is very important. "

'The stupid King always says so…' Saruhiko thought bitterly, this time truly feeling a headache coming up. 'Ah, but this time he truly might mean it. Today is a very special day.'

A day he could not possibly miss. A slightly insane smile adorned his thin lips and he drawled out a soft 'Enter'. Three maids came in, not at least bothered by his indecency and Saruhiko stretched his lean arms over his head, as the eldest maid scolded him for bringing whores into his room again, but Saruhiko did not hear them.

Today on December 18th the Blue King along with the rest of the city were celebrating the capture of Suoh Mikoto.

TBC

A/N: Haha okay whoah, this was very hard to write not to mention very tiring. I was inspired to write this, Oha Asa said Tauruses have great luck today ohohoho ;D~ My great luck is my inspiration. I am planning to make this a three shot, or maybe a two shot I am not sure. We will see I guess? I am not sure when I will update this, certainly not this week, because I will be busy as hell. I am afraid Yata and Fushimi aren't in character, but it will only be like this in the first chapter and only for the sake of the story, I promise. Any speculations are welcome; I love it when people guess. How will Fushimi-kun and Yata-chan meet? What will happen next? Reviews are always appreciated. I love you so much guys, I wish I could hug you all and hold you close and kiss your cheeks, you made me so happy. This is a fantasy AU set in no particular country, so feel free to imagine their outfits however you like, though I was imagining their outfits in Arabian style ( too much Magi for me lol). If anyone is still confused, at the end of the fic, two years have already passed. Also who wants to kick things up a notch? I am talking about M rating –leer leer-

Dedicating this to my Shouhei, because I am a huge butt that won't write her Chitose/Dewa. I love you gurl, forgive me?