#mt2016

Tatara swung the bag full of holiday cheer on their way down the ill-lit corridor. Mikoto nodded along. If letting Tatara haggle prices with dicey-looking characters, all while he stood behind looking menacing enough to settle the deals, even counted as a hustle. 

Whatever made the brat feel excited.

“That watch is sold out everywhere else can you believe it — jailbroken, passed a counterfeit scan, everything. And it looks like we made it all the way through the wishlist! They actually do have it all down here.”

Mikoto stopped to stare into a storefront fishtank. It housed only a pair of eels inside ribboning around each other. The neon above read “Exotics.” The rest of the sub-level mall strip felt dark in comparison; most places there found it wiser not to advertise.

“And a pet shop? We have to go in!”

Mikoto tailed him close, since they hadn’t made too many friends in this place. Plus, it was getting late. But no harm in letting Tatara poke around in one last shop. They had to duck to get in, beneath hanging cages, weaving around stacks of tanks piled high. Overpopulated with an oddball collection of screeching, hissing, cackling animals.

“Look!” Tatara reached down into a pen and pulled out a tawny tan ball of fur. It had been sleeping in a pile of littermates who looked suspiciously tiny in comparison: like a different species. He spread out his paws when Tatara lifted him by the middle.

“Now that’s a kitten,” he awed, “He must be one of those new designer breeds.”

No more than a few weeks old, his cloudy amber eyes followed Tatara’s every move. Round ears, broad nose, and a dramatic black eye-lined look gave his disguise away in the middle of these house cats.

He didn’t know how to “mew” either, but his snout wrinkled with a scratchy “raowl ! ” at this stranger picking him up.

“Just look at these weapons. You’re going to grow into such a big boy,” Tatara squished both paw pads — quite large for his size — gentle to reveal a set of claws. The cub squirmed, curious to sniff him over.

“Anna would love him to bits.”

“Tots’ka,” warned King. He knew he shouldn’t let his vassal entertain the idea, only to be disappointed.

“With a red bow around your neck,” Tatara coddled the tiny beast, who’d begun to teethe its fangs into the two fingers he offered.

“We’ll just keep you at my place, that’s what we’ll do.”

Little dish ears flickered nervous like the florescent lights above. Parrot screams and the roar of metal doors rolling down in the outside corridor seemed to startle him. The crowded, unkempt conditions were the worst of it. There was hardly room for him to move around in the pen with all the others. It bothered Mikoto.

He narrowed his glare at the baby lion, and suddenly plucked him from Tatara's hands by the scruff.

"Don't get attached,” he sighed.

But his actions said otherwise. He let go of the pelt to support the cub's rump and fluffy belly, just right. A brown-tipped tail twitched. He decided he felt secure enough with King to kneed claws into his chest, rubbing back with his furry chin and chirping up at him ... Tatara's soul nearly departed his body. If only returning to let him snap dozens of pictures.

Meanwhile, Yata and his reluctant team hid around a stack of cages. Waiting for a chance. Anna was desperate to run out and meet them, to hold the cub too (to help convince Mikoto to take him home). But she had to keep still.

The trio had an easy time sniffing them out. All they had to do was ask around for where the unmistakable Red King had passed through.

They ducked down when Mikoto stepped by, retreating to the storefront to watch the eels and smoke. He’d handed the furball back to Tatara before its playful cuddling made it impossible to put down, and told him to hurry up. Now everything was out of his sight.

Kamamoto tugged on the hood of Yata’s jacket.

It was just their luck a woman came squeezing through narrow isles to browse their selection of fish; looking as if she’d stepped off the cover of a magazine in her gold and embroidered silk coat. The man she came in with leaned back on the shopkeep’s counter, chiseled yet dull-looking.

Perfect.

Yata and Kamamoto whispered, clumsily, to each other. The girl was too fixated on the baby lion attached to Tatara’s shoulder; it caused him giggles nipping through his soft blond mane to chomp down on his ear.

“Oh no! Don’t eat me~”

Until they handed her a little folded strip of paper, and whispered down the plan. Anna shook off her reservations, and focused. Save Tatara’s life. Save them both.

The woman at the fish tank’s attention flashed down to find wide ruby eyes staring up at her. Between her mittens Anna offer up the strip of paper, then pointed, rather stiff, to Tatara.

“From him?”

Anna nodded. The woman looked over her shoulder at the front counter before kneeling down to her level. Coral lipstick made her smile look softer.

“Thank you very much.”

“Kim! What are you doing?!”

The girl’s heeled boots clicked away fast, gone the second the woman had glanced up at the boom of her client’s voice over the shop. He made his way over before she could shove the folded paper into her pocket.

“Saw that,” he barked at her. “Hand it over. Now.”

He demanded to see what she tried to tuck away.

“A little girl came and handed it to me. I swear. It’s nothing.”

“Awe, a little girl did? ”

Moments later, Tatara found himself grabbed by the shoulder and spun around before he had any idea of the argument going on the background. A guarding embrace went around the cub in his arms before he even considered fleeing or defending himself.

“The fuck d’you think you are, huh?”

“Umm, the wrong guy?” Tatara’s easygoing voice didn’t give him the fearful response he was looking for. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re the only one else in here, champ. This your number?”

“Wow. That’s weird,” Tatara squinted at the paper shoved in his face, sort of giving himself away. It was definitely his number.

“It’s definitely my number.”

“Great. And I know you wanna’ tell me what it’s doing in my girl’s coat”

“Is this is supposed to be some kind of magic trick?” Tatara leaned back on his heels, “Are you a street magician? Because this gimmick’s really something I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He guessed it was just an aggressive business to be in these days, because the man’s grip tightened harder on his shoulder. The ball of fur tucked its head down into the cradle of his arms to hide.

“We’ll just take a trip outside, if we wanna’ act ballsy.”

“ ’n something like I’d love to ’s my line next , huh?” Mikoto’s gravel-deep tone interrupted. He blew out a lungful of smoke and didn’t bother with anything fancy snatching the guy’s hand off his vassal and forcing him back by the wrist.

“Always the same shit,” Mikoto snarled, broad chest shielding Tatara from view.

“Back off!” he didn’t think twice about squaring up with the Red King himself.

“Get away from them, what is wrong with you?!”

the woman flung her handbag at the back of the guy’s head, finished trying to hold back for her own safety.

“I see, yeah, let this guy hit on you while you’re out with me. You’re gonna’ regret it,” he gritted at her through his teeth. Before turning his caustic attention to Mikoto, who’d gone stiff, silent at the accusation against his vassal.

Possessive to the core, the Red King held Tatara under one protective arm — he rubbed King’s back gently, so maybe the whole place wouldn’t end up chargrilled

“If that little slice belongs to you I’d keep his leash on tighter,” he flicked the phone number back at Mikoto, “He ain’t loyal.”

There was nothing Tatara or anything else on earth could do to help the guy out at that point. Mikoto caught him by the shirt collar, and let flame engulf his other forearm. It was all the warning most loudmouths needed to turn peaceful as brahman cattle.

“Look at that, a fucking freakshow…”

Mikoto only smirked. He thought he’d be generous — holiday spirit and all — and take this guy on a vacation outside like he wanted.

Wait for me He eyed Tatara back before dragging the flailing man out.

And caught a heavenly smile in return: Always~

The woman and vassal were left behind to chat. After apologizing profusely, she could explain her situation once their aggressor was out of sight : she was an escort, and he was an overbearing client overstaying his allotted time with her — quite obsessive. He hadn’t allowed her communication with anyone for days, even her employer. It was a miracle they got involved when they did.

“I was afraid I’d have to spend Christmas with him.”

“It'll… probably be a few weeks before he makes it out of the hospital. So unless you’re planning to visit… no worries.”

Miss Kim looked relieved. Before a lion’s chirp caught her attention.

“You know, this fellow must belong to a zoo breeding program. See that.” she noted the small silver band at the bottom of the cub’s ear.

“We match!” Tatara flicked his own silver earring.

“The numbers engraved in it should correspond with his zoo’s accreditation number.”

The vassal nodded, “Then we could find where he belongs, easy.”

“Let me pay for him,” she decided, “If you promise to take him back to them.”

“Of course,” replied Tatara. “King and I will get you home first thing in the morning. Somewhere with lots more room to grow up.”

Tatara felt Mikoto’s chin set heavy down on his shoulder as he spoke. He smelt vaguely like burning leather. A clear signal that he was done tossing out the garbage and quite ready to leave. The payment was done quick as their harassor had been disposed of, in cash.

They were possession of an actual lion.

But the woman seemed hesitant to step out of the shop alone where she’d intended to part from them, “I guess I had better get going,”

“Nonsense,” Tatara tugged on Mikoto’s arm, “We’re going to walk you someplace safe.”

“Thank you, really you don’t know how much it means.”

She tried to offer the strip of paper back to him.

Tatara took it only to scribble down another number on the back, “Keep it. And here’s King’s too. If you need ever need help, it’s no problem.”

Mikoto grunted in agreement. Tatara would let him hold their teething, squirmy gift-for-the-night on the way back. Both he and the cub seemed perfectly happy to follow along together. ゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ･*･ﾟ゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ

The tittering between the two new friends was non-stop all the way to the ride awaiting her above ground. All about how incredible King and his powers were: Tatara’s area of expertise. He even demonstrated a bit of his own talent, bringing the little phoenix to life in his palm to her surprise. The lion cub batted a paw out at the bird as it fluttered, dripping flame, around King’s shoulders.

“That’s it, you two have got to come to my company Christmas party! You have to meet my girlfriend she’d absolutely flip over that kind of thing…”

“Company party? Sounds too professional for us,” Tatara laughed.

She waved him off.

“No way! That’s just what the girls like to call it. Plan on bringing friends!”

“We will!" Tatara waved back. "There’s more fire where that came from!”

Her lively calls reached back to them before she hopped into the cab, “Thanks so much !”

“You alright?” Mikoto questioned him once they were alone, eyeing his shoulder where he’d been shoved around.

“I’m fine, King, thankyou” Tatara’s patient tone soothed his worries. “It just reminded me of old times.”

Mikoto half-rolled his eyes, but kept close enough to shield him from anyone passing on the street. He was still feeling protective.

“You would come to my rescue. Before I got so good at running away.”

Two fingers — still marked by little fangs — latched onto two of King’s as they walked the long way home.

“I have to confess,” Tatara hummed, “it’s awful but I would daydream up ways for it to happen again and again.”

It still wound the kid up to feel Mikoto at his most possessive; those surges of muscle and aural energy, so eager to protect his own. Tatara had long been addicted to the way it felt to be close to him during, and after a confrontation. When his body still shivered down with power. He would have felt worse about it if King didn’t live for the occasional fight.

“So what happened t’ running away this time?” Mikoto mumbled. Content in knowing little pieces of how Tatara used to think of and dream of him. The ways he still did.

“I had my hands full. I wasn’t thinking clearly,”

He stroked the cub’s ears to make sure they kept warm, all bundled up in a scarf in the crook of King’s arm.

“Lions can be troublesome.”

Mikoto guessed he’d let him get away with the insult.

“It would make me feel better if you stayed over tonight. We have all these gifts to wrap; can’t just bring them back to the bar and let everyone see.”

The delicate hold connecting them became a tight, loyal twine of hands.

゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ･*･ﾟ゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ

“Hold a finger right there, still.”

Tatara instructed him to help finish their first bow of the night. Gold silk ribbon tied up soft around him. Mikoto felt somewhat useful here, at least. The few wrappings he’d tried to do alone turned out to be abominations; mostly lumps and too much tape.

The piles of colorful, discarded paper, tissue and ribbon were apparently not enough to entertain their houseguest for the night. The tiny predator sprung out of them where he’d been hiding to tear across the living room floor.

“Prince!”

The baby lion pounced on the package the moment it was done, and dragged it off with his teeth like a kill he’d taken down himself. Tatara’s smile screwed up at his proud strut; his pathetic excuse for a tail wasn’t much help balancing him yet, and he tripped over his own paws.

But Mikoto was scowling again, “Didn’t I tell y' not to name him?”

They had to take him home to the zoo in the morning.

“He’s Prince,” Tatara shrugged down into his shoulders, “just like King is King. I don’t make these things up. That’s just how it is.”

Ripping sounds from claws and teeth meant they’d have to start all over wrapping again.

゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ･*･ﾟ゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ