Summary: 'Homra. The the most feared gang in Shizume City. And that guy up the front – that's Suoh Mikoto, the almighty red king.'
Yata Misaki has always wanted something more out of his boring, middle school life, when suddenly in early spring his wish comes true. Surrounded by crooks and gangs Misaki is thrown into a dangerously new world, one controlled by supposed kings wielding enormous power. Then one night he comes face to face with the real thing, the Red King himself, and in an instant Misaki's life changes in ways he could never have imagined.

AU, Misaki's joining of Homra and the beginning of his and Fushimi's friendship. Later angst and violence and stuff because angst and violence is fun :3

Chapter 1

At first he had tried to keep it a secret from them. Sneaking out in the early hours of the night, returning home in the early hours of the morning. For months they never knew. It was invigorating, adrenaline pumping through his veins each time he slipped through his bedroom window, his shaking hands clenching tightly around the board of the sill when he pulled himself up the next morning. Of course it was tiring, and his face showed it. But it didn't matter. He felt like the whole world was his own. He belonged on those streets, his board solid and reassuring under his feet, pulling him along without pain or effort. If it had continued this way, he would have been content. Although living a life of a lie, the escape into the extraordinary was too great to ignore. It was freedom, it was exciting, it was his own.

'Misaki!' A woman's voice broke through his dreams and Yata Misaki was suddenly awake. He cracked his eyes open slightly, only to again tightly shut them as he was exposed to the bight yellow light of morning. Grumbling, Misaki rolled over, hoping to ignore his mother's calls from the kitchen.

'Mi~sa~ki,' his mother called again, drawing out the sounds in that irritating way of hers. With a loud tch Misaki shot upright, throwing his covers off himself and stalking out of the room. Poking his hear around the corner in the kitchen he glared at the back of his mother's apron.

'What?' he said sulkily. Smiling, the ginger woman turned around and indicated the frying pan she was currently holding. 'Breakfast,' she said, still smiling. His glare fading slowing from his face at the site of his mother's smile, Misaki averted his eyes in embarrassment and nodded once before slinking back to his room to change.

Rubbing his eyes in an attempt to rid them of his tiredness, Misaki pulled on his uniform, grabbing his back from beneath a pile of dirty clothes and hurrying to return to the kitchen. As his made to leave however, he caught sight of his face in the mirror hanging opposite his dresser. His ginger hair stuck up in small tuffs, and dark rings encircled his eyes. His skin was pale and feverish, his cheeks tinted a light pink while beneath his white collared shirt the edge of a collarbone poked out, indicating his slightness. For the first time finally realizing how poor his health was getting, Misaki could only stare in shock at his reflection. He had no reason to look like he did. He and his mother were well off my a long way, three good meals a day plus snacks and more. His mother was a good woman, he was a good enough kid in the eyes of most people, so why?

Turning away from the mirror, Misaki smiled to himself. It didn't really matter how he looked anyway, as long as everyone else thought him to be a normal middle schooler. Sure, he had been getting comment about his obvious lack of sleep and loss of weight, but that could be attributed to other factors, right? He had midterms coming up, lack of sleep could be from his attention to studying. And his weight? Well that could be to do with an increase in stress. The smile remaining on his face, Misaki silently reveled in the last few months of his life. His life couldn't be better, this was too amazing! If Misaki could continue hiding this secret from his mother, teachers and members of his class, he didn't have anything to worry about.

The one person Misaki was most wary of at school was a fellow classmate with dark brown hair. Coming across as the nerdy loner type, Misaki had been following this guy around ever since he began his night escapes at the beginning of the school year. It wasn't because he was afraid of the guy discovering his secret, it was more the fact that unlike his other classmates the loner hadn't bothered commenting on his sudden change in appearance or attitude. Misaki wasn't quite sure why, but it pissed him off.

When the bell finally sounded for lunch, Misaki grabbed his books and shoved them hurriedly into his bag before leaping out of the classroom, earning some exasperated stares from his fellow classmates. Sprinting down the corridor to the stares, Misaki focused hard on the dark, lanky figure ahead of him. Cursing the school under his breath for not letting him use his skateboard down the corridors, Misaki ran up the stairs two steps at a time, before finally pushing the door open and falling - quite out of breath - onto the roof.

'Hey!' he called angrily. 'You..oi-haa' Resting his hands on his knees Miskai gulped down large gasps of air. He raised a hand to point menacingly at the dark figure before him. 'What are – hngh – you doing – haa – here, huh?'

'Me?' the figure asked innocently.

'Who the – hah – fuck else..smart ass?'

The figure shrugged half heartedly, turning away from Misaki with disinterest, causing the ginger the seethe behind him. Finally regaining his breath, Misaki stormed towards the brunette. Grabbing the back of his shirt collar, Misaki yanked him around to he was facing him before planting a solid punch on the other kid's jaw. Eyes widening slightly in surprise, the lanky brunette stumbled backwards a step however to Misaki's displeasure, he remained on his feet. Pressing his palms on his slowly swelling jaw, the brunette glowered at Misaki in a way that seemed to appeared apathetic. Shocked, Misaki released to taller boy's collar, letting his clenched fists drop to his sides instead

'Why'd you hit me? I don't even know your name,' The brunette said simply, without emotion. Misaki's brow furrowed in anger, before creasing in confusion. Huh, but they'd been classmates for months. Did this loser really not know his name? Not sure whether he should be pissed the smart ass didn't know his name, confused before he should know his name, or embarrassed because he's kid a guy for no reason, Misaki shook his clenched fists impatiently before stamping his feet and glaring up at the taller boy in front of him.

'Yata Misaki!' he shouted, before looking away to hide his blush.

Peeking a glance back at the brunette, he saw an eyebrow raise in what could perhaps be described as astonishment, although the taller boy's facial muscles appeared unable to produce an expression much more than apathetic disinterest, before replying with:

'Fushimi Saruhiko.'

Misaki said nothing in response, instead choosing to stare at his feet. Realizing his tough-guy attempts had been quickly destroyed by some nerd apparently more lightly built than he was, was more than Misaki could handle. Without giving the brunette more than a second glance, the ginger turned around and stalked off, in search of someone else's attention.

That night began like any other. After dinner Misaki said goodnight to his mother, shut the door of his bedroom and quickly slipped out of his uniform to replace it with his far more comfortable shorts and white shirt. Tucking his skateboard under his arm and switching his off his bedroom light, Misaki quietly pushed his bedroom window up before sliding easily outside onto the small metal stairway. Remembering not to look down (although his almost always did), Misaki slide the window shut and preceded making his careful way down the steps from the fifth story apartment and to steady ground.

Pulling his board in front of him and flicking his wrist so it span obediently to the ground, Misaki readied his feet and gazed about him. The lights of downtown Shizume city shone brightly ahead of him, while to the east his saw the soft glow of the docks and warehouse blocks. Grinning like an idiot, body itching with adrenaline and excitement. Planting both feet firmly on his board he pushed off, traveling quickly along the flat pavement and towards the city lights he loved so much. Zipping through alley ways and between buildings, Misaki gliding effortlessly down the crowded city streets. He knew every short court out here, new every hole, crevice, alley. At night, the streets were his home, a house of lights and fire and danger. The streets offered Misaki every ounce that life had to give him plus more. He could study and he could smile politely and he could find himself a job worthwhile and maybe a nice family but none of that couldn't come close to comparing with this.

Jumping into the busy street Misaki weaved expertly through the traffic, ignoring the angry honks aimed his way, before gliding back onto the pavement and down another alley leading to the docks. This part of the city was far quieter, the streets less crowded. Low brick buildings lined the streets, their windows dark and foreboding to most ordinary pedestrians. But to Misaki this area was almost as exciting as the city center, despite it's lack of direction commotion and flashing lights. Skipping down another narrow alley way, Misaki finally arrived at his destination. Just outside the docks was a collection of mostly empty warehouses, the hub for illicit and gang activity. Seemingly quite a bit separate from this illegal hub was Misaki's destination – a smallish building with a tin roof and cracked steel walls. The mostly glassless windows appeared gaping and dangerous, exposing the uneasy darkness within. But Misaki was far from afraid.

Skating around the front entrance of the building, Misaki made his way through the gate on the north end of the warehouse, swerving to avoid the occasional debris and junk. Up ahead was a back area, what could be called a garden of sorts if the warehouse was described as a house; surrounded by a tall steel fence and lain with rough red bricks. A fire had been started in a pit in the center of the area, casting wavering shadows and odd flickering lights across and around the space. Around the fire there was a small crowd of men and women of varying ages. At the sound of Misaki's voice they looked up and made various greetings.

'He~ey, Misaki-chan,' one guy called cheerfully, slinging an arm around Misaki's neck. 'Right on time as always!'

'Beat it, Ryousuke,' Misaki snapped, but he didn't shrug the arm away.

'Aaaw, don't be that way Misaki-chan, we're buddies, right?'

'Quit calling me that and I'll think about it, huh!'

Ryousuke laughed and bumped his shoulder against Misaki's playfully before removing his arm and grabbing the ginger's instead, pulling him along to the rest of the crowd.

'Hey, Misaki-chan, the boss has an awesome job lined up for you, can't wait to start.' Ryousuke turned to Misaki and beamed brightly. A few years older than Misaki and surprisingly more boisterous, Ryousuke pushed back a flop of dyed blond hair as he pulled the ginger towards a burly man sitting in the corner of the outside space. The crowd around the fire followed the pair, leaning in the overhear the possible exchange between the two boys and their leader.

Once approaching the older seated man, both Ryousuke and Misaki bent on their knees and bowed their heads respectfully.

'Good evening, Shidou-san,' Ryousuke began formally. 'Yata Misaki and Honda Ryousuke are ready to accept our mission.'

Peeking at the man from beneath his bowed head, Misaki gazed at his leader, Shidou, otherwise known as the feared Shiro-do, with admiration. This man, whom he rarely heard spoke, was the reason for Misaki's sudden renewal during the past few months. A man seemingly void of energy or effort (much like that Fushimi, Misaki realized suddenly) Shidou represented everything Misaki hoped for – excitement, power, strength, purpose. Under the great Shiro-do not only did Misaki feel he had a true reason in this world but finally a man who could be proud of him. Living a life devoid of ny masculine influence, Shidou gave Misaki what his mother could not – the desire to not only satisfy and be cared for, but the desire to impress. Misaki's mother loved him, cherished him even, but what Misaki needed was a reason which he felt his mother and normal life could not give him.

'A newly emerged gang has taken control of the Nishigawa-Houka region of the eastern prefecture,' Shidou began, 'in line with our third base of operations. Rival gangs have already attempted infiltration but for unknown causes none have been able to gain access. Your job is to observe – and only observe – the attempt of the yakuza section known as Satsujin, which sources have told us will begin at 11pm. Return back by 2am. That is all.'

With that, following Ryousuke's lead, Misaki said his thanks and raised his head, before turning and following the blonde back through the crowd. Once they were out of earshot Misaki let out a loud whoop and he leapt in the air, clutching tightly at his skateboard. Ryousuke, a bemused look on his face, clamped Misaki hard on the back before once again beaming with happiness.

'Alright!' he shouted, and the two high fived as they heading out of the warehouse and towards the dull glow of the eastern docks.

Rousuke and Misaki crept quietly towards the Nishigawa warehouse, bats in hand. Misaki had his skateboard tucked under his left arm while he carried the steel baseball bat in his right. Being unable to ride is board during the journey towards Nishigawa had been irritating to put it mildly but it was their mission not to be seen. Misaki grumbled softly, but only hoisted his board higher.

Once they reached the vicinity of the warehouse, a mere five meters between themselves and the back windows, Ryousuke motioned for them to settle down and begin the observation. Conveniently located on the corner of a three-way junction just outside the docks and on the western end of the major eastern prefecture of Shizume City, the boys location was a perfect observation point. Able to see the road on all sides minus the front, but high enough to see any cars pull up on the road lining the front of the building, as well as angled perfectly to allow access to the inside of the warehouse and the main rooms due to the abnormal amount of windows and sliding panels, Ryousuke had chosen their spot extremely well.

Ryousuke made a downward motion, signaling Misaki should put his head down. Grinning broadly in both agreement and excitement, Misaki ducked enough so he could still see three sides of the roads and the junction to their left. Misaki checked his watch – 10:50pm, it was almost time. Looking up, clenching his fists to stop his hands shaking, Misaki glimpsed shadows moving across the empty street. Feeling somewhat overcome with excitement, he grabbed the fabric of Ryousuke's shirt and yanked it furiously in order to get his attention. Ryousuke nodded, his own excitement evident in the way he tightened his jaw in order to stop himself form beaming and rushing out with impatience. Tightening the hold of his bat, Misaki raised himself on his elbows and leaned down the small incline they were lying on in order to see better.

Below him, Misaki counted five shadows approaching the warehouse. Raising himself higher so he could glimpse their faces Misaki's forehead creased in puzzlement. Motioning to Ryousuke who was also watching the group profusely, Misaki indicated the group. Ryousuke nodded slowly. He knew.

Unlike other rival gangs this group was seemingly walking into a raid with little cover and little care. They stood in the open, in view of the many windows lining the walls of the Nishigawa warehouse, and they moved as a group. There was a lot of them, but not enough for what could be a planned full front attack. Misaki didn't understand. Raids he'd been apart of with Shidou occurred under cover of darkness and in pairs. Full front attacks were normally averted, because of their reliance on force that was always assisted by high numbers, of which Shidou resented using, and the unreliability of said force against other gangs and the yakuza. Shidou was old-fashioned, albeit thorough. Member of his gang rarely used guns or mechanical weapons, preferring to use the ambush/guerilla style.

None of the actions of this group matched anything Misaki had been taught by Ryousuke, Shidou or the other gang members, and contradicted everything he had observed in his past few months under the guidance of Shidou. Misaki watched with fascination as the five continued moving forward at what appeared to be a leisurely pace. Although he couldn't be sure do to the dim light emitted from the docks to the east and the absence of the moon, Misaki spotted the leader of the group, a tall man with fiery red hair. He saw the sparks of a cigarette being lit and the cloud of smoke that billowed around the man and he exhaled. As though aware he was being watched, the redhead suddenly glanced up at where Misaki was hiding, staring Misaki down with a pair of deep amber eyes. Misaki swallowed suddenly, unease creeping through him but for some reason he couldn't look away. He was fascinated by those eyes, and that apparent red aura that seemed to surround the man in a haze. Misaki wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or if it was really there, but the aura appeared before him as warm and comforting – safe but immensely powerful.

Suddenly Ryousuke's closed fist slammed down on the top of Misaki's cranium, caused him to lie facedown in the dirt. Rubbing his head furiously, Ryousuke smacked him again a finger to his lips and he hissed: 'What are you doing idiot, we're not supposed to be seen!'

Shrugging out of Ryousuke's grip, Misaki hissed back, 'You're the idiot! Haven't you realized something's up with them? What kind of gang just strolls in, huh?'

Ryousuke said nothing, watching the site below him.

'It's pretty freaking weird, don't you think?' Misaki hissed, trying to get his partner's attention. Misaki watched Ryousuke as he observed the group below them, his own eyes widening as the blondes suddenly gasped in realization.

'What the hell is it?' Misaki asked. 'Ryousuke? The fucks wrong?'

'It's Homra,' Ryousuke said simply, seemingly dumbfounded. He leant back in simple astonishment, as though he was surprised but impressed all at the same time.

'Eh, Homra?' Misaki pressed. 'They a gang or something?'

Ryousuke gave Misaki a sharp look for his dumb ignorance, however it couldn't be avoided. Two years his senior Ryousuke had seen a lot more action on the streets than Misaki had, especially with the ginger's comfortable home life. Feeling ridiculously stupid for not realizing who the group was nor what Homra was, Misaki fell back against the dirt and continued watching the group below him.

'Homra,' Ryousuke whispered beside him. 'The most feared gang in Shizume City. And that guy up the front – that's Suoh Mikoto, the almighty red king.'

AUTHOR'S NOTE
hi hi hi, sorry this is long and not a whole lot happens, totally an impulse write and i have a terrible writing style which makes it impossible for me to say anything without going on for paragraphs whelp. i am totally aware i haven't explained yata's situation in detail, that was sort of the point :3 but basically i was inspired to write this because of that audio between yata and kamamoto? i don't know if it was a drama cd or what but yata was making rice and he mentions his mother and i just loved the way he mentions her i dont know why, but since then i've always wanted to know what yata's relationship with his mother was because i think secretly he's a bit of a mummy's boy (i like to think so anyway it makes him cuter than he is now - if that's even possible). also i apologise for my representation of yata, i know he doesn't appear as loud and BAM in your face as he's often represented as, nor is he as tsundere as some people like to write him as (not that i have a problem with tsun-yata, tsun-yata is cute too), but because i've set this way before the anime and even before yata joins homra i had to fill in a lot of gaps about his character in a way that made him seem like the yata we know and the baby 14 year old yata we don't. to do that i used myself as an example (dont hate me) because im a cancer as well and i associate myself with many of his attributes so quirks like how i mentioned after his confrontation with fushimi he ran off to find attention from people who know him is an example of that, where i think yata loves attention and praise, both from people he respects (shidou and later mikoto) and people he wants to respect him (fushimi to an extent and in this case ryousuke and his fellow classmates), but in a way that's different from fushimi's desire for yata's attention, like yata just wants to do good ad have people like him you know, (i don't know).

sorry this note turned out long as well, maa bad, anyway please read it i hope you like and you read on to future chapters thank you yayaya 3