Something You Can't Give Back

"... Can't you just give it back?!" Izumo half questioned, half stated with no small amount of panic lacing his tone. The lit cigarette he'd had between his lips just moments before had fallen and was now slowly burning near his feet, completely forgotten.

The stressed bartender could only thank every deity that he knew that Anna was asleep upstairs and that Fujishima had already gone home for the night. One bleeding heart was more than enough. Not even the gods would be able help him if either of them were here or knew about this.

"We should keep him." Tatara piped up with a bright smile and sparkling eyes. His mind was clearly already made up on the matter as he leaned over the King's shoulder to get a better look at the innocent thing in question; the cause of all the commotion.

"Absolutely not," Izumo immediately shot back while trying to light up another cigarette in his irritation. Gods did he ever need a cigarette, or a pack. No, he'd probably need two before the night was over and a stiff drink as well. He felt the beginnings of a panic attack start to well up in his gut when Mikoto didn't respond in agreement right away, or at all.

In fact, the redhead hadn't emitted so much as a grunt since the beginning of this whole debacle. His attention had been snared completely by the tiny bundle squirming restlessly in his arms. His amber eyes were so intense that Izumo figured they could burn a hole through diamond. Clearly he was thinking deeply about the issue at hand, but his features gave absolutely nothing away.

Just what did the Red King think about all this? The blond haired male had to wonder. The bundle had been specifically left for him, after all. It was his responsibility, and in the end his decision alone to make one way or the other.

"What do you think, King?" Tatara asked softly after a few minutes of heavy silence.

A slow blink, followed by a long sigh was enough of an answer to make Izumo want to bash his head against the polished bar. Not that he would. The bar had cost him a small fortune, but still the urge was there. In order to resist the temptation of self-harm to vent frustration and helplessness, he moved away from the bar and over to his friends seated on the couch.

Tatara smiled widely in excitement as he gently scooped up the bundle from Mikoto's arms and cuddled it lovingly to his chest. By the time Izumo collapsed gracelessly into the couch next to him, Tatara was already cooing sweet nothings to the recently abandoned infant.

The child's parentage wasn't in question. All three men knew without a single shred of doubt that the baby currently gurgling and wiggling happily in Tatara's arms was in fact, Mikoto's. He, because Tatara had already checked just to be certain, had inherited the King's more unique features. Taiki, as the note had stated, had a crown of soft but messy red baby fuzz and all too familiar intense amber eyes, although his skin seemed to naturally be a few shades darker than his fathers.

"Even if we keep him, we still need to find the mother. This is no small matter, Mikoto." Izumo murmured lowly and in all seriousness as he caught the King's lazy gaze as it drew away from the happily drooling infant.

There was a grunt followed by a deep, heavy sigh and a low baritone reply. "I know."

Izumo let his gaze drop to the happily unaware infant. He felt sorry for the kid. He couldn't have been more than a couple months old, if even that. So young and already he had been callously abandoned by his mother, only to be dropped straight into the hands of a group of men and one female child Strain vastly unsuited to care for an infant. Half of them could barely take care of themselves on a day-to-day basis. So that begged the question of just how in the hell were they expected to raise an infant.

This... was going to be an interesting adventure however long it may be and troublesome, very troublesome.