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K: TALES OF MIDNIGHT: CHAPTER XI: MIDNIGHT

A mere twenty four hours had passed since Fushimi heard those startling words uttered by Rei Kiyoka.

We’re going to kill Hisui Nagare.

Like a broken record, those words ran like chills again and again through Fushimi’s sleep-deprived brain. They didn’t want to go away. The more he heard their weighted echo ringing in his ears, the more unsettled he became, which was an even greater shock to him, given his utter lack of empathy for any person ever.

Of course, this is what you wanted, he would tell himself. You want him gone. He’s sick. He’s twisted. He needs to be stopped. Yet all the while, Fushimi failed to realize just what wanting him gone really meant.

Stopping Hisui Nagare wasn’t just about defeating him. There was no halfway mark that meant locking him up and hoping he’d learn his lesson. Only one solution would ensure that no more harm would come from Hisui’s aura-ridden hands. It was simple, really, only Fushimi hadn’t gotten that far mentally. Hence the growing feeling of unease he couldn’t seem to shake. Plus, of course, the notion that, to kill a man – even a sadistic one like Nagare – would somehow ruffle the unruffable feathers of Saruhiko Fushimi. If shame was ever something to be felt by Fushimi, it would happen over something so ridiculous and highly out-of-character as this.

Naturally, these troubling thoughts succeeded in deflecting any notion of sleep over the course of those twenty four hours since his obvious wall of naivety was shattered like a fragile piece of glass. What an idiot, he kept thinking to himself, hardly noticing the world around him. Nor did he quite comprehend the mission he was currently engaged upon, partnered with Rei Kiyoka for whatever reason. Oh yeah, he realized somewhat vaguely, recalling to his mind, an instance with the Captain several moments (or perhaps hours) before.

“I want you to find something for me,” the Captain had said ominously with his insufferable air of vagueness that Fushimi couldn’t stand.

Pricked as usual with annoyance, Fushimi asked, almost like he was talking to a child, “And what might that be?”

“You’ll know it when you see it,” came the worst possible answer that the Captain could have given.

Yes, how could I forget such a stimulating talk? Fushimi wondered with a jilt while traversing through the windy, uncrowded alleyways of Shizume. Kiyoka paced several steps ahead him. The sight of her cascading waves of jet-black hair, her angled features peering into passing shops and her roaming eyes that never once appeared to him as natural, produced once more the image from the day before, equipped with those same words remarked with such a casual air as to make even his hair stand on end.

Kiyoka, on the other hand, appeared in brighter spirits – innocently bright. Once again, a slight glimmer of humanity reflected itself off of her, her current gaiety centered on the city that surrounded them: the scores of people strolling down the windy streets, the storefronts and their catchy signs, bakeries wafting out delicious scents into the air; above it all, a shimmering gleam of yellow sunlight blanketing the scene.

Kiyoka splayed her featured over every single one of them, as though the view was somehow foreign to her, as though she had never witnessed a display of the mundane, of ordinary life, of the utter simplicity of being present in the world. It was, every bit of it, new to her, though Fushimi couldn’t imagine why.

Kiyoka had spent her fair share of time out in the world since her stint at Ignatius Banks (the thought of which still made Fushimi twitch). Yet it seemed she never stopped for very long to gaze out at the scenery, to grab a cup of coffee, to shop about aimlessly, or go on casual walks, exploring every facet of the city. She had done none of those things. Instead, she had focused all her power on her mission. On me, he couldn’t help but emphasize. A slight flush surfaced on his cheeks. Deliberately, he brushed the heat away with the cuff of his sleeve, as though he were only sweating from exertion and not from something else much hotter deep within himself.

Seeking to distract his wandering thoughts (since, clearly, the silence wasn’t helping), he chose the only option he could think of.

“I have a question,” he said, calling out to Kiyoka.

Maintaining her calm interest on a tea shop they were passing, Kiyoka answered mildly. “Of course you do.”

Pricked nearly back into silence, yet preferring an argument over the current terror of his thoughts, he persisted. “Why won’t the serum work to neutralize your powers? If that was what was in the vial you left for me to give to the Captain, why haven’t you taken it?”

“That’s two questions,” she noted, eyeing a passing stray cat.

“Are you going to answer or what?” Fushimi challenged.

He saw in her profile, a hint of amusement, partnered with the gentlest of chuckles. Spinning round, she eyed him up and down, appraising him and drawing more amusement in his growing discomfort under her gaze.

“Would you trust something you stole from your enemy?” She asked.

It was a simple question, yet blatantly true.

Of course not, was the obvious answer.

Discerning from Fushimi’s sudden pause that he had understood her meaning, she flipped back around and started up again, walking with her back to him and her long hair flipping side-to-side with every skipping step.

“We still have to analyze it to see if it would even work,” she continued. “The serum is meant for those who haven’t already gone through the Imperium Procedure, given that it’s essentially a hyper sped-up version of it in one concentrated dose, giving others the same level of power that I have.” She cocked her face halfway toward him. “Without the side effects, of course

“There’s no telling what it would do to someone who’s already been through the Imperium Procedure, and frankly, I’m not too excited to find out. I’ve been through enough experiments without my consent. I’m not about to go blindly into this one when I know I have the option to discover with absolute certainty what it’ll do to me.”

She said this so matter-of-factly, it almost didn’t register in Fushimi’s mind how deeply enslaved this woman was for so many years. Did she even realize it?

Then he slumped internally. Of course she realizes it, you moron. Who wouldn’t? Especially after having been freed? And yet her casual nonchalance made him wonder. If it had been him, … But you’re not her, he made a point specifically to remind himself. We may be similar in some ways – a lot of ways, in fact – but it doesn’t mean I can expect her to behave in the same way I do. Just look at her track record so far. She’s been anything but predictable.

“What if the serum comes back clean?” He pressed her. “Would you take it then?”

At this, Kiyoka paused, all sense of her surroundings fading back into the void as she turned slowly to look at him. Her deep green eyes studied him. “No,” she said, and began to walk again.

Fushimi stopped, confused, then picked up in a jolt and darted after her, speeding up to walk alongside her. “You mean you won’t even try it? Even if it meant getting rid of…” he motioned up and down her walking frame.

Kiyoka frowned. “Better to be flawed and alive, than potentially dead.” Then her voice took on a jaded undertone. "I would have thought a narcissist like you would have understood the concept of self-preservation.”

“And I would have thought that someone so reckless as you, who takes risks as easily as a kid popping candy, would have gone for something as questionable as this without batting an eye. Knowing you even a little bit, I’d bank on you finding a way to cheat yourself out of something so trivial as death.”

He had a point, and Kiyoka knew it. Her face, borderline appalled by his defiant comeback, showed him just how little she expected it, though far be it from her to be put out by it.

After a considerable pause, she opened her mouth to speak, either with a serious remark or with some lame comment on how precious it was that Fushimi believed enough in her to survive, as had become her natural, lewd inclination to do. But instead of saying anything, her attention shifted drastically to the side, cautious of another presence, some new force encroaching on the scene. Whatever it was, Fushimi couldn’t feel it. All he sensed was Kiyoka and her unmistakable power wafting all around him.

“What is it?” He asked, peering around, attempting to catch wind of whatever it was she had picked up.

Kiyoka’s eyes darted side-to-side until she locked onto the source. Her eyes squinted to a frown, probing it, deciphering it, her brow increasingly furrowed.

Fushimi took a step toward her, his own concern growing. “Rei, what –“ he began to ask, and was abruptly cut off as Kiyoka’s eyes shot unexpectedly wide and she took off down the street.

“Hey, what are you doing! He called after her, but she didn’t answer. “Rei, stop!” He hollered, racing after her. “Rei!”

She disappeared around a corner, forcing him to speed up. In and out, he weaved through the general throng of unsuspecting people as he tried keeping up with her.

When at last, he caught sight of her, paused before a storefront with an ardent gaze on something deep within, he made at once to race to her, then stopped himself in something of a recoil, his entire body bathed in apprehension and alarm.

The store that Kiyoka chose was none other than Homra, the regular watering hole of Red King Mikoto Suoh and his clan – Fushimi’s old home. Not that it ever felt like home, he couldn’t help but recall. But what was she doing there? Rei Kiyoka had no connection, no reason, to go there. Is she just messing with me? He couldn’t help but wonder.

It was then when the Captain’s shrouded words came back to mind. I want you to find something. You’ll know when you see it. Was this what he was talking about? If so, then it’s no wonder he didn’t tell Fushimi openly about it. Fushimi wouldn’t have gone if he knew he’d wind up there. Where he was. Creepily, those memories started surfacing, yet before they had a chance to scurry up, he clamped them down, back into the hole that was his past, from which, as greatly as he tried, he couldn’t see, to escape. Nor could he find a way to make himself forget.

Cast drastically into a horrid mood, Fushimi balled his fists, took a deep breath, and strode up to Kiyoka. Still, she stood there, silent, staring.

“There you are,” he said, grabbing her by the arm. She flinched and turned to look at him, her eyes wide open, totally exposed.

“It’s here,” she breathed, hurried emotion in her eyes.

Fushimi frowned, his own urgency to get away from there obstructing his ability to comprehend her. “Rei, we have to get out of here,” He said, giving her arm a tug while glancing side-to-side, hoping no one would notice them. “You have no idea what this place is.”

“I’m going in,” she said, ignoring him.

“What?! No! You can’t —!” He tried to argue, but she slipped out of his grasp and strolled in through the door, the light ‘ding’ of the the bell atop it chiming as she did.

“Rei, get back here! You can’t –!”

“Oi! Saru!” Came a raspy young voice behind him.

Fushimi paused mid-step, closing his eyes in a dreaded blink.

“Perfect,” he mumbled low beneath his breath. Just what I need right now. Heaving out a grumbling sigh, he slid around to view Misaki Yata, the royal pain-in-the-ass that was Homra’s vanguard – and also his former best friend.

“Well if it isn’t Mi-sa-ki,” he sneered tauntingly. He eyed the young ma, who was quite a few inches shorter than he, yet with no shortness of aggression in his features.

“I told you not to call me that,” he sneered.

Mounted halfway on a skateboard with a baseball bat flung casually over his shoulder, the vanguard smiled wickedly at him. “You know, it’s too late to come back. Or are you just here so I can teach you a lesson? Traitor.” The word came like poison from his mouth.

Fushimi grinned, bursting into a wicked laugh that was anything but pleasant.

“By all means, try,” he answered. “I haven’t killed anyone yet…today. And I’ve gotta tell you, I’m really in the mood for it.”

From within his sleeves, he drew his red-soaked daggers, a rakish smile present on his face as he advanced upon an equally exhilarated Misaki. The two of them neglected what went on beyond their own immediate sphere that had, by then, completely formed itself.

Inside Homra, Rei Kiyoka had her mind on other things –of the wave of onyx power wafting through the halls, of her own power dominating fully in this tiny, compact bar that she could not, and cared not, to remember the name of. All she sensed was the same void of pitch-black darkness that entwined the very essence of her being, only it wasn’t coming from her. Her aura – that mystical force she loved, yet never knew the source of – was radiating out to her from somewhere else. From someone else.

The place itself was empty, save for the bartender, a tall man in glasses; and a woman seated opposite him with her back to Kiyoka. Her long white hair dripped past her waist in shimmery silver tendrils, and as Kiyoka entered, she turned, sending her red stare across the room to scrutinize the person, in whom, she sensed as well, a similar power.

It’s her, Kiyoka thought. It’s coming from her.

Instinctively, she knew. Standing face-to-face with a woman of so obvious a supernatural connection to her, that the person she was looking at was not just another like her who bore that same magnificent power as she, but the very source from which her own originated. At last, after so much time spent thinking she was all there was, the missing piece of her puzzle had finally been found.

“How is it possible?” She breathed, lost to understanding and entirely in awe.

The woman, likewise, shared in some surprise, for her features, though calm, seemed suddenly pleased. She rose, a regal presence standing before Kiyoka, and approached until she stood a mere few inches from Kiyoka’s face.

Gently lifting one slim hand to cup Kiyoka’s cheek, she breathed a wistful chuckle of relief. “It’s you,” she said with such affection, Kiyoka hardly realized the emergence of emotion in her eyes. “My beautiful Midnight power,” the woman said. "It belongs to you as well.”

Overcome with an emerging bliss, Kiyoka nodded. “I thought I was the only one.” Tears started streaming down her face.

“As did I,” came the response. “But that was not to be, it seems.” Her large red eyes squinted in a contended smile, calling forth a similar smile from Kiyoka as she wiped away her tears.

“What’s your name?” The woman asked.

Regaining her composure with a shaky breath, she answered. “Kiyoka. My name is Rei Kiyoka.”

“Rei Kiyoka,” the woman repeated, seeming pleased with it. “I am Anna Kushina. I’m the Midnight King. And you, it appears, are my clansman.”

Eyes shot wide, Kiyoka’s mouth dropped open. A sense of purpose filled her, partnered with a feeling of true kinship and belonging. Never before had she felt these things so purely, like a weight that had been suddenly cast off, or like a trick equation she had finally found the answer to.

“Sit down,” Anna offered her. She took Kiyouka’s hand and lead her to sit down at the bar. “Izumo, fetch another drink, will you?” She asked, and the man behind the bar nodded.

“Mei oui, mademoiselle,” he said in his slick, cool tone, and began tinkering with the bottles of alcohol stacked neatly behind him.

“Tell me,” Anna said, leaning on her elbow and leveling her ardent gaze on Kiyoka. “How did you come by my power when I don’t even remember giving it to you?”

Her presence, imperial and beautiful, was not at all oppressive or accusatory. Instead, it was kind, soft, riddled with the same power that wove about inside Kiyoka.

A mutual understanding sprung up between them as a result. Kiyouka felt free, able to speak without restraint, unbound by this new feeling of inclusion. Finally she could speak to someone who would truly understand and who would truly know her for who she was, regardless of having never known one another until that moment.

Truthfully and unabashedly, she replied. “So, you had no idea that I existed?”

Anna shook her head. “I would have come for you, had I known. Because, you see, this power is special. You know it is. You can feel it.”

It’s true, Kiyoka felt it. It was a rich, deep power, giving her a sense of everlasting will to overcome the world. It was comforting, pure. And she knew full well that if it weren’t for it, she would have died long ago at Ignatius Banks.

A sudden light sprung in her mind. “Ignatius Banks!” She said excitedly. “That was where I first came by this power.”

Anna’s face grew stern, concerned. “You were at Ignatius Banks?” She asked, a genuine pain in her eyes. “You were also at that awful place?”

Kiyoka sat up straight, curiosity in her tone. “You were a prisoner there, too?”

Anna nodded. “For a brief time. It was many years ago, long before I came to be here. I remember very little from it.” She shook her head, as though attempting to be free of some invisible force that sought to erg her down. “They did many things to me,” she went on, reflecting painfully with both eyes closed. “Later, I realized that what they were attempting to do was harness my power. To this day, I still don’t know why.”

“I think I do,” Kiyoka chimed in, prompting Anna’s attention.

Kiyoka then proceeded to tell Anna the story of her time at Ignatius Banks, of the Imperium Procedure, and how it was their mission to replicate supernatural power to be used on non-aura wielders. “They probably thought your rare abilities as a black aura wielder would help them,” Kiyoka posed.

This time, it was Anna who sat up straight with alarm. She clutched Kiyoka’s hand that rested on the bar next to hers. “Did they use my aura to harm you?” Her face was full of fear.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Kiyoka assured her as the bartender, Izumo, placed a drink before her. “Thank you,” she nodded to him. “In fact, it was your aura that saved me. I don’t even think they knew I had somehow gotten it, and to be honest, I don’t really know how it happened.”

She then recounted the day she had spent in her cell alone, how Anna’s aura burst through the walls, straight into her, and how it had remained her constant companion ever since, fueling her and aiding her in her survival against the Imperium Procedure’s brutality; how it had inevitably saved her time and time again when Imperium took her powers too far.

“That was no accident,” Anna said to this. “Your power is greater than most auras. It can destroy all that it touches. But it has another name for it as well.”

At this, Kiyoka peered a question at her.

“It’s called ‘Restore,’” she revealed. “As I’m sure you’ve already discovered, it is a healing aura that can return anything it touches to an earlier stage of its existence. Therefore, just as Midnight brings death, so also can it bring about new life. And for that, I am so glad that it found you when it did, for now I can sit here with you like this and marvel at the clansman I inadvertently created. In the midst of so much darkness at Ignatius Banks, at least this one bit of goodness came from it. You are a true miracle, Rei Kiyoka.” She smiled, relief and happiness flooding her features.

Kiyoka smiled back, her own sense of familiarity and relief breaking down a whole new set of barriers she didn’t know she had. For once, she truly felt both heard and seen.

Filled with this new sense of peace, she studied the glimmering amber-hued drink in her hand and took a sip, it’s profound flavor smooth and comforting on her tongue.

She swallowed, allowing the full potency of the liquor to waft down her throat. “That’s one good bartender you have,” she said, only then aware that he was no longer in the room but had most likely slipped off to some side room behind the bar to give them some privacy.

“He’s much more than the bartender here,” Anna laughed, and Kiyoka rose an inquisitive brow.

“Oh? Are you two, uh…” she twiddled her drink in the air, furthering her emphasis, but Anna merely laughed.

“Would you like to meet my love, Kiyoka?” She asked, fondness in her voice.

Kiyoka made to answer, stopping herself curtly at the sound of her cell phone’s muffled ringing coming from her pocket. With an apologetic glance to Anna, she drew it out and answered it.

“Hello?”

“What the hell are you doing!” Came the distinct, agitated tone of Fushimi.

Kiyoka paused. “Hello?” She said again.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Can you?” She snapped. “Your phone etiquette is appalling.”

Fushimi clicked his tongue. “Do you have any idea who that is?”

Kiyoka, unperturbed, peered backward to the door, glancing out the window. “Where are you?” She asked.

“You’re just now realizing I’m not with you?” Again he clicked his tongue. “Listen, that woman is with the Red King! You have to get away from her!”

Delighted, Kiyoka turned an interested expression to Anna. “Ah, so your love is a King as well – and a regular bad boy, at that. Well done.”

Anna winked back at her.

But seriously, where are you?” She said, redirecting her attention to Fushimi.

“Just forget it,” came his grumbling reply. “Just get out of – Ah! Hey!”

A residual boom erupted on the other end. Kiyoka frowned. “Sashimi? Hello?” But Fushimi didn’t answer. Instead, another zapping boom cracked painfully through the phone, causing her to wince.

“Ow,” she said into the phone. “Sashimi, what are you –?”

She paused mid-sentence, silenced by a laugh, somewhat maniacal and sounding eerily like Fushimi’s (or what he would sound like if he did laugh, for she realized that she’d never heard him do so before).

“Is that all you’ve got?” She heard him say in the most giddily twisted voice she’d ever heard.

“Sashimi…?” she ventured in.

“I haven’t even started, yet, Saru!” Came a distant, gruff response.

Another set of blasts and zapping booms commenced.

Kiyoka blinked, nearly bored. “Sashimi…” she said patiently again, to no reply.

She looked to Anna, shrugged her shoulders and mouthed the words What is going on?

Anna merely grinned, seemingly knowing something she didn’t.

One of the explosions on the other end made the ground beneath her rumble, and she glanced back to the window, witnessing Fushimi and another young man battling it out with conflicting red and blue auras that looked about ready to kill one another.

“Oh, there he is,” she said as trivially as though commenting on the weather.

Fushimi and a young man that Kiyoka had never seen before were deeply engaged in all-out war with one another in the street.

The young man wore a white sweatshirt and a beanie, donning around his neck a set of headphones, a red shirt tied around his waist, and a baseball bat in his hand as he paraded in an aura-ridden circle on a skateboard round Fushimi. He bounced around so quickly, it was difficult to determine how tall he was.

Meanwhile, Fushimi parried every red-aura blow that came by way of the baseball bat, countering with his blue sword of Reisi Munakata, partnered with his red-aura daggers in a startling display of warfare – one that Kiyoka couldn’t help but think they’d had before.

“Who is that?” She asked Anna, casually observing them.

“That’s Misaki Yata. He’s a member of Mikoto’s clan – Mikoto Suoh, I mean.”

Kiyoka gave her a sultry look. “Your love,” she crooned.

“Indeed,” Anna answered, blushing a little.

“Misaki and Saruhiko grew up together. They were inseparable,” she added.

Kiyoka nearly choked as she attempted another sip of her drink, spitting scotch into her glass and spraying it all over her nose.

Sending a perplexing glance to Anna, she couldn’t decide whether to be shocked at Anna’s casual use of Sashimi’s name, or at the prospect of him being ‘inseparable’ to anyone. With so many questions swirling in her mind, she chose to ignore all of them for the time being.

“So, they’re fine, then?” She asked, nodding to the seemingly destructive battle beyond.

Anna shrugged. “Oh yes, they’ll be alright.”

Kiyoka held the phone back to her ear. “Did you hear that, Sash? I’m going to hang up now, okay?”

No answer. Instead, “Don’t you think you’re getting a little old to be throwing temper tantrums, Mi-sa-ki?” Fushimi taunted.

“We’re the same fucking age, you moron!” Came Misaki’s reply, followed by a whooshing zoom of an aura blast that boomed over the phone.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then?” Kiyoka offered politely, then nodded against the non-response she received. “Brilliant.”

Hanging up the phone, she smiled in Anna’s direction. “Right then, where were we?”

“You’re not worried about him?” Anna asked, amused.

Kiyoka shrugged, studying the remainder of her drink. “He’s been through far worse from me. I think he can handle this.”

Anna gave her a perceptive smile as the door burst open and Fushimi barged in, Misaki trailing behind him.

“Oi! Where do you think you’re going?” Misaki hollered after a completely disinterested Fushimi. “This is Homra, idiot! You don’t belong here anymore!”

Fushimi ignored him, strolling up to Kiyoka and snatching up her arm.

“What do you mean you’re going to hang up?” He said deliberately, earning a blink from Kiyoka.

“You were actually listening?” She asked, a hint of a smile creeping along the edge of her mouth.

“Like I can tune out something so piercing as the sound of your voice,” he answered, pulling her up out of her chair. “And you don’t get to hang up on me. Let’s go. We’re leaving.”

“But Sash,” she tried to argue. “She’s –“

“I don’t care!” He shot back, dragging her toward the door.

“But I do!” She cried, emitting a brief tremor of her darkened power outward through the room. The reverberative thrust shook Fushimi off her and he turned to her, stunned.

Locking eyes with him, Kiyoka’s own widened pleadingly. “She has my power, Sash!” she conveyed to him. “My aura,” she clarified to Fushimi’s deepening scowl, and then his brow shot tall, sudden understanding flooding in.

“You mean she’s…” He peered from her to Anna and back, at an utter loss for words.

Kiyoka nodded. “It was hers to begin with. Sashimi, she’s my King.”

That word struck him like a dagger, and in a fumbled attempt to speak, Fushimi stumbled backward, eyeing her with what she could only assume was betrayal.

He cocked his head emphatically to the side. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” He shouted, coming back to stare at her with malice. Taking a heavy step toward her, he pointed one long finger at her. “Is there no end to the havoc you can wreak!”

Kiyoka blinked again. This had successfully dumbfounded her.

“W-what are you talking about?” She stumbled out, her tone soft, confused, hurt. But he wasn’t looking at her. Sure, his eyes appeared to be, but somewhere deep inside, he was looking elsewhere. A darkness settled over him that Kiyoka didn’t recognize.

A weighted silence took them, Kiyoka staring up at him, disarmed; Fushimi bearing down on her, holding her ensnared.

Then that strenuous bond snapped as he tore his stare away from her, glancing briefly at the silent Anna still seated at the bar, then back to Kiyoka, an entirely new distance between them.

“Fine,” he uttered flatly. “You do what you want,” and he turned his back to her. He hardly seemed to notice Misaki’s look of hatred as he slammed the door behind him, the bell above it giving a parade of irate jingles in his wake.

Kiyoka watched him go, her mouth drawn open, emptiness abounding in the room. “Sash,” she nearly whispered, her steps drawn toward the door.

“Kiyoka, wait,” came Anna’s voice behind her.

Kiyoka turned to find the Midnight King no longer seated passively but standing tall beside the bar. Compassion and resolve swirled about her form.

With a regal step, she strode toward Kiyoka, taking up her hand.

“You will always have a place here,” she told Kiyoka. “Though, I understand all too well that a person must find her own place in her own way and in her own time.” She cast her red gaze over to the door, the remnants of Fushimi’s presence lingering like a passing scent that wafted down the street. “Whether yours is out there or in here, or someplace entirely different,” she continued, turning back to Kiyoka, her gentle features emanating warmth, “That is up to you. Go. And I promise you: we will see each other again.”

Bolstered by Anna’s words, emboldened to return a nod of certainty, Kiyoka clutched both hands around Anna’s, giving a tight squeeze. “Thank you,” she said, then raced out the door to find Fushimi.

(Chapter X: Answers // Chapter XII: Traitors)

(K:Tales of Midnight is an Eso Niko Fan Fiction series based on the anime/manga series K, written by GoRa and produced by GoHands. All fan fiction works written by Eso Niko are categorized as ‘unofficial fan fiction,’ and are in no way affiliated to GoRa and GoHands.)

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There’s no such thing as entrusting my back to someone else anymore…

Saruhiko Fushimi (via esoniko)

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SUOH MIKOTO

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K: TALES OF MIDNIGHT: CHAPTER X: ANSWERS

Fushimi caught up to Kiyoka halfway down the hall, snatching hold of her arm. “Wait,” he said.

Kiyoka turned, eyeing his hand on her arm, then peering up to look at him. “Can I help you?”

“We need to talk.”

“So, talk – Or… “ she pointed in the direction of Operations. “Shouldn’t you be in there, overseeing things with Jungle? You know, you only have about fifteen minutes before it locks you out again.”

“That’s more than enough time,” he said. “I ran one of my own programs. It’ll sweep the network and ping out alerts as it finds the information we’re looking for – like lighted arrows.” He let out a minor scoff. “I made it so easy, even those guys could do it.”

Kiyoka rose a single eyebrow, languidly impressed. “Smart,” she said. “So, what do you want with me?”

“Not here,” he said, and whisked her down the hall, tossing her inside an empty conference room. “No one’ll hear us in here,” he said, locking the door behind them.

The space was dim, the window shades half-closed, a dull grey blanket shadowing the scene.

Kiyoka peered about the place, then twirled around to face him. “Cozy,” she said, tipping one coquettish brow.

“I want to know,” he ordered, stepping firmly toward her. His voice was brusque, edgy.

“Know what?” She asked, her tone a flush of innocence.

Fushimi’s eyes narrowed. “You know damn well what,” he said, advancing with a greater stride. This time, she retreated out of instinct, bumping into the oval conference table behind her. Unconsciously, she peered down sideways at it, then gasped back as she turned to find Fushimi towering over her, staring fierce blue eyes at her.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked, his voice a fluid echo in her ears.

Kiyoka stared back, wide-eyed. “You mean...Reisi didn’t tell you?” She asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Like he ever says anything important,” he shot back. “I bet in this case, he convinced himself it wasn’t his place to tell me.” He scoffed off to the side. “What a pain.”

“So I’m asking you,” he said, turning back to her. "Of all the people you could have picked on, you chose to pick on me. You could have done what you needed to do any way you wanted, yet you did it with my help – not that I felt particularly helpful at the time,” he added pointedly.

“And what about now?” She asked, tilting her head playfully. “Do you feel helpful now, Sashimi?”

His scowl deepened. “I wouldn’t be asking if I did.”

Searchingly, Kiyoka held his callous stare, seeing in his face a weighted fervency behind it. “Okay, then,” she said at last, her teasing mood diminishing to seriousness. “I did choose you. I chose you because I needed someone specifically on the outside – someone on Reisi’s side, I mean – to use as my contact. Think of it as having a handler – someone I can report to whenever I have information.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, here,” he cut in, “but typically handlers are aware of their contacts. And yet, you failed to implement that basic line of protocol.”

Kiyoka blinked, confused. “Surely you would have realized –“

“Yeah, I know. If anyone knew, it might have compromised your mission,” he said with mock gravity. “That’s why you chose not to tell me. But that’s not what I asked you. I asked you why you picked me. Over everyone else, what was so important that you needed me to help you?”

Kiyoka stood there, silent, thinking, as it were, on how to answer. Most likely to Fushimi, she was searching for some lie that she could spin, or else a way to redirect the issue so she wouldn’t have to answer him at all – or maybe, just maybe, she was looking for some lewd remark to change the mood and make him mad all over again. But instead, to his bewilderment, she caved against his growing stare, heaved a sigh, and sat down on the table, resting both her palms along its edge.

“You were in the perfect position,” she confessed. “You were close enough to Reisi that you were always at the scene of any incident, being his eyes and ears, working with his trust. Therefore any messages I gave you, you could give to him directly. Yet you were also far enough away from him that you weren’t expected to be at his side continuously, to follow his every command. You were…neutral, I suppose? You acted, knowing he had picked you specifically to work for him, which meant also that you were free somewhat to do what you wanted. In short, you were your own person. You did what you wanted, regardless of rank and regardless of what anyone thought. And from the perspective of others, that sort of behavior doesn’t really give off the impression of a person of heart-warming loyalty.” She crossed her legs, her tone conversational. “That was somewhat ideal for me.”

Fushimi cocked his head, understanding flooding in. “So you picked me because I’m a traitor.”

Kiyoka pursed her lips, nodding. “Partially, yes,” she said, taking in the momentary tightness in his face. “And also because I knew that Nagare wanted you.”

These were not the words Fushimi hoped to hear. Ever. Grimacing, his voice fell with disgust. “That guy and his creepy fascination can go to hell.”

Kiyoka grinned, chuckling at him. “For your information,” she said, “it was that ‘creepy fascination’ which made it so easy to find time to interact with you.”

Fushimi made a face. “Lucky me?” He added mirthlessly.

Kiyoka’s grin turned mischievous. “No. Lucky me,” she said. “I was able to use Nagare’s desire to keep tabs on you to purposefully craft my movements so they collided with yours. That way, every time I ‘ran into you,’” she said in air quotes, “I’d secretly pass on information to you while masking the interaction as a topic of fascination with Nagare. I’d report back to him with all kinds of updates on how you were doing – things like how you looked: healthy or unhealthy; Your latest pieces of tech, from miniature bombs to universal keys, etc.; what kinds of soda you liked; if you were happy. Stuff like that.”

Fushimi clicked his tongue. “Gross.”

“Maybe. But it created a nice window of opportunity for me,” she replied. “Like you, I then had the freedom to see you more or less when I wished, and to do so without suspicion.”

At this point, she leaned back comfortably on her palms, peering out the window to the overcast sky beyond. A heavy rain had since begun to fall over Shizume, batting against the window panes. “But there were other reasons, too, you know,” she added, her tone heartening. “Other reasons why I chose you.” She turned back to find him staring fixedly at her.

“What other reasons?” he asked, brow furrowed, as though debating whether or not he wanted to know the answer.

Kiyoka studied him, this time finding something of alarm, a racing heartbeat, hidden in his usual cool arrogance. She could tell he never knew what she was going to say next, and the idea of that scared him.

“I was…curious,” she told him, suddenly self-aware. Peering at her fingers splayed out on the table, her voice fell to a softened, almost-whisper. “Curious about the only other person Reisi cares for.” Cautiously, she shifted her large eyes at him in time to catch his startled features frowning down at her.

“Me?” He asked, blinking disbelievingly at her.

Kiyoka kept her sinewy gaze on him, silently confirming what he wanted to ignore, then shifted her eyes back in the direction of the window. “Not because I was jealous or anything like that,” she said, shaking off the transitory nature of so trivial a concept, then blinked her eyes heavily, frowning in the midst of some internal struggle warring not too far beneath the surface of her thoughts.

“I’d never been cared for before,” she revealed. “So when Reisi came along, it was an entirely new experience for me. What’s more, when I found out that I wasn’t the only object of his affections, I was interested to know what you were like, and…” again, she seemed reluctant, turning to the side. “And if you were anything like me,” she said, smiling in the midst of her slight shyness.

“I wondered if Reisi saw in you the same things he saw in me,” she continued, "and if that was why he cared for you, too.” Turning back to look at him, she found him staring deep into her eyes. Some part of what she said had struck him and he couldn’t help but feel it.

“I had to know,” she said in something of a plea, then smiled again in spite of herself. “You don’t realize it, Sashimi,” she said. “But the way Reisi looks at you…” she shook her head, gazing at the ceiling, then down again to meet him eye-to-eye. “It’s the same way he looks at me – that look of…” she thought for a moment. “Pride, I guess? It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.” Staring on in earnest, her tone grew meaningful. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

Fushimi did know, only he never really put it that way before, or if he did, he thought it wasn’t real. Always, he assumed that Munakata was just toying with him, hiding something sinister behind a pleasant face. But then there were these moments. Fushimi couldn’t pinpoint how he knew, maybe in the way he felt unsettled, though strangely not in a bad way. It was more unusual than anything else, like all the air had been sucked out of the room, but instead of leaving him cold, unable to breathe, it left him warm, settled, waiting without pain for the air to come back in, and both anxious and excited for its return. It was that feeling, that pull of anticipation, that he’d hardly ever felt before, and the force of it was like a blinding light cast suddenly over him, when all he ever knew was how to live life in the dark. Yeah, he knew what Kiyoka was talking about, and now, she knew it, too.

“I wanted to tell you everything,” she said, breaking down another wall. “But Reisi…”

“He wouldn’t let you,” Fushimi finished for her, his surly tone diminishing.

In turn, an air of solidarity sprang up in her, partnered with an inkling of relief, as though somehow she needed him to understand and feared he never would, yet when he did, it ushered out a weight she finally realized she had harbored all that time.

“Reisi knew that any risk, however slight, would put me in even greater danger,” she conveyed to him. “He would have taken on your role himself if he could, but he knew the dangers of that as well. In the end it was I who suggested it be you.” The way she said this was curious to Fushimi, as if her purpose wasn’t in exploiting him, but rather just the opposite.

“You should have seen his face,” she went on, thinking back serenely. Then, recalling the full memory, she laughed. “Reisi didn’t think I’d even heard of you. He didn’t know that, while I was recuperating in one of his safe houses after he’d found me, I was also doing my research; nor did he know that whenever he came to visit, I’d overhear his phone calls with you when he thought I wasn’t listening. Over time, I began to notice something.”

Curious, Fushimi inadvertently inclined his head more closely to her.

“He seemed to take more of an interest in you than anyone else – even more than his second – that high-and-mighty Ms. What’s-Her-Face.” She rolled her eyes deliberately.

“I remember it well,” she went on, clearly nostalgic. “He would call you all the time and I’d watch the way his face would light up.” She smiled pleasantly at Fushimi, as though, for the first time, she was viewing him honestly. “I was completely captivated by it. That’s how I knew you were someone he admired, someone he cared for.”

Fushimi, growing antsy by this declaration, stopped her with a cautionary hand out in the air. “Yeah, okay, I get it.”

Kiyoka posed a knowing grin. “The attention jars you, doesn’t it?” She asked, and when he stared a blatant realization at her, she said, “It’s alright. It jars me too. To be honest, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. Bad attention, yes. I’ve lived with that my whole life. But as soon as someone’s kind and actually treats me like a living, breathing person, I get all warm and don’t know what to do with myself – particularly my hands,” she added, waving both hers in the air. “I never know what to do with them.” She bared her teeth in a fun-loving chuckle, which was not so fun to Fushimi, her own attention causing him to shrink back into his usual brooding self.

“You think this is a joke,” he said, not entirely sure if he meant it.

Kiyoka, never phased by his abrupt dips into utter rudeness, gripped the table’s edge once more, leaning out to crane her neck and peer at him with something of a twinkle in her eye. “Isn’t it better to laugh when whe world offers some slight kindness, rather than to cry because the world itslf, as a whole, is cruel?”

Fushimi made to answer her, but only got so far as opening his mouth before he shut it once again.

Kiyoka nodded, pleased by this, then sat up with her shoulders back. “In the end, Reisi was quick to say ‘yes’ when I told him I wanted you in on the mission. He agreed that you were the right choice.” Tapping out her fingers in a walk along her knee, she made a point of keeping her eyes centered down on them instead of Fushimi. “There was just one condition, though. One price for allowing me to have my way.” Her fingers started tapping in a slower, languid motion.

“Until he saw that, in no way, it hindered both my mission and my life, I was to say nothing about it to you.” Cautiously, she snuck a quick glance up at him to find his features tense, frustration and annoyance seeping back into his face.

“Obviously, that made relaying information that much more difficult,” she admitted. “I had to be all cryptic about it just in case anyone was watching. But you’re smart and so is Reisi. I knew I could rely on you.” She heaved a little sigh. “So I did as Reisi asked, and willingly too. The man gave me everything, after all” she added, somewhat helplessly. “I could afford to give him this.”

“He sent you to Nagare – back into the world he’d only just rescued you from,” Fushimi pointed out, unconvinced, but Kiyoka frowned, her face sincere.

“That wasn’t his choice,” she explained, shaking her head. “It was mine.”

“Yours?” He blinked. “You mean…?”

“Reisi didn’t want me to go,” she confirmed. “Sure, he knew how advantageous it would be if I did. He even planned for it initially. But when it came down to asking me, he choked. I think that’s when he realized he had gotten too caught up in his feelings for me.”

Fushimi cast a watchful eye to her. “And what is it that he feels, exactly?” He asked her probingly. “What are you two to each other anyway?”

A whisper of a smile, blossoming to a full-fledged grin, escaped her as she issued out a teasing laugh. “Are you jealous, Sashimi?”

Catching himself from turning a deep crimson, he clumsily blurted out the word, “Hardly.” Then, calming down, he added in more pointedly, “I’ve just never known the Captain to let his personal feelings get in the way of his mission.”

“Guess I’m just lucky that way,” she shrugged. “But to be fair, we both are.”

Fushimi made a partial shake of his head, leering skeptically at her.

“And still you wonder why I was so curious about you,” she crooned. “Still you have no clue.”

“Say what you will,” he countered. “But the Captain’s never compromised his precious ideals over me.”

Kiyoka popped her brow, scooting back against her palms and peering to the side. “If you say so.” She flicked her stare back purposefully, and for a moment, he was captured by it, wondering at it, wanting to ask her what she meant and what she knew, then having to remind himself that, no, he didn’t care.

“I do say so,” he said at last, steeling himself firmly so she couldn’t see how close he came to questioning himself.

But she didn’t back down. Not yet, at least. Still, she kept him locked within her gaze, and as she looked – really looked – his own stare nearly buckled beneath hers.

“Alright then,” she announced, backing off the second that he thought he couldn’t take it anymore. “So, where were we?”

Fushimi was so distracted, heaving an internal sigh, that he had to stop and think. “You wanted to fill me in on your plan but the Captain’s overprotective streak cut into that,” he finally answered, crossing his arms gracefully in an effort to compose himself.

“Right,” she said, relaxing herself back along the table. “He had his reasons, so I didn’t argue with him. I knew that what he was doing was all in order to help me, and to be honest, I needed all the help I could get. Even with my feigned background in the Underworld, my carefully curated resume and my Imperium-induced power,” she waved leisurely, "not to mention my black aura – which no one seems to know the origin of – gaining Nagare’s confidence was incredibly difficult to do. Nevertheless, I –”

“Back up,” he said, drawing one hand up to wave at her. “I thought your black aura was just from being a Strain.”

Kiyoka shook her head slowly. “My aura came to me later.”

Fushimi’s eyes shot open wide. She’s a double aura-wielder…like me? He found himself in awe. No one else that he had ever heard of had access to two auras. But then the connotations started surfacing. The reason why he had two auras instead of one, came flooding in. Is she also…?

“So you’re telling me that you were with another King before the Captain?” He hurled out, something like anticipation mixed with fury and excitement riddled in his voice, but Kiyoka shook her head.

“All I remember was sitting alone in my cell one day – at Ignatius Banks, that is. I was sleeping. Then the next thing I knew, the entire building shook with this giant boom like an earthquake.” She rattled her hands out before her for effect. “And all of a sudden, a wave of black power – this aura,” she said, gesturing to her core, “came shooting through the walls, straight into me, like it was looking for me.

“It settled into me and just stayed there, coursing through me in a way that made me feel like it was made for me.” She paused, thinking back on it. “I think that’s why I never felt afraid of it. I just let it in. I guess I thought that one day it would save me.” Chuckling, she drew her fingers up to slide a section of her hair behind her ear, bashfully enjoying herself. “I guess, in a way, it did. I’m certain it was this aura that made it possible to survive the Imperium Procedure. It gave me the strength I needed to push through it, which is why I find it pointless to try testing the Imperium Procedure on regular strains,” she added scornfully.

“They’d have to have an aura first – on top of being a Strain,” he surmised.

She nodded.

“Does Nagare know this?”

Kiyoka rose her shoulders in a shrug. “If he does, he didn’t learn it from me.”

“And you have no idea where this aura came from?”

She thought for a moment. “At first, I thought that maybe it was just another experiment – one that Ignatius Banks tested out on me. But on top of the fact that no one even seemed aware that it had happened – they never came to question me about it – I also realized that it’s not scientific in nature. Compared to my Imperium power, it’s too natural, too organic.”

“You think it came from the Slate?” He asked, enraptured by this sudden new enigma.

“That would be my guess, yes,” she answered. “But until I can find out how I got it, and from who, I’ll never know for sure. I mean, aren’t there only supposed to be seven auras that belong to seven kings? If that’s not true, which, judging by me, it isn’t, that would mean…” she shook her head, trying to process an answer.

“I imagine that’s another reason why Nagare took you in,” Fushimi commented. “Aside from having completed the Imperium Procedure, wielding an aura no one’s ever heard of seems like just the kind of mystery that guy’ll do anything to get his hands on.”

Kiyoka pursed her lips, nodding in agreement. “I was his own personal curiosity,” she admitted. “Naturally, he was going to use me. But getting him to trust me?” A tiny scoff escaped her. “That was a whole other issue. To this day, I still don’t think he ever did. Sure, he valued me, but not because he cared for me. When you’ve lived as I have – which, I imagine you have, in your own way – you find that everyone tries to use you. Therefore, it makes it easy to see when someone’s not.”

Ruffled by this surprise attack of understanding, Fushimi found a gentler voice he didn’t know he had. “You mean the Captain,” he said, nearly as a question, and she nodded.

“Knowing what it’s like to be truly loved for the first time,” she said, “that feeling stands out. It’s how I was able to pick through Nagare’s lies and know that what he really cared for wasn’t me but my power and his ability to use it. So that’s exactly what I let him do.” She smiled, her face a twist of cunning and delight. “However, there was a complication.”

Fushimi looked a question, urging her to continue.

“Early on, I suspected that Nagare was using my blood to conduct experiments in his search to find the serum, which meant he had a lab somewhere that he used for this purpose. This was the same lab I assumed he was taking all those test subjects we ‘freed’ from other labs.” She blinked emphatically, her own revulsion sliding to the surface. “My reason to suspect that he had such a facility was because the one I was given access to didn’t have anything beyond Imperium testing. And believe me, I checked. Many times. That’s how I knew he was keeping secrets from me, that he didn’t fully trust me, despite the fact that I was his first ever J-ranker. Of course, that didn’t surprise me, but I acted like it did.”

Fushimi ‘humphed,’ amused. “Did that work?”

“What do you think?” she smiled. “I made him believe that I wanted to be an ‘active’ part of his research, not just the blood donor – another numbered variable in his plan. All I wanted was to ‘prove myself,’” she said, feigning sincerity before rolling her eyes.

“Wow, and he bought that?” Fushimi asked, eyebrows lifted high into the air.

“Clearly you don’t know the extent of that guy’s ego,” she replied. “I said exactly what he wanted to hear. And he responded, saying he had a way for me to do just that.”

Fushimi cast a sudden, knowing look at her. “The Crosswalk,” he said.

“The Crosswalk,” she echoed.

“Not that I particularly care,” he went on, "but people could have died.”

“You’re right, they could have,” she stated matter-of-factly. “And, if we’re being honest, I was prepared to let that happen, fully relying on Reisi and his resources to make sure it didn’t. I had no idea that Nagare would order me to reverse the algorithm’s effects, so I guess my non-worrying was justified,” she flitted regally.

“Yeah, how did you do that, anyway?” Fushimi asked, and Kiyoka donned a cat—like grin.

“Yet another mystery behind my power,” she rang out airily.

A fiery light sparked in Fushimi’s eyes. “You mean Imperium can move things backwards? Reverse things you want to undo?”

“Not Imperium,” she corrected him, setting a hand on her chest. “My aura. Believe it or not, it’s not all fire and brimstone. It’s also a healing aura.”

This was not what Fushimi was expecting. Sure, he could have gotten behind the idea of somehow altering the structure of animate and inanimate objects, but to go so far as to think of it as ‘healing?' Her? Forgive him if he didn’t fully believe it. Cynical, he narrowed deeper, intense eyes at her. “So then hypothetically, couldn’t you just use your aura to heal yourself from the aftereffects of Imperium?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” She answered unexpectedly. “But the Imperium Procedure wasn’t formed from supernatural elements, and only supernatural forces can be undone by my aura. If I were to get hit by a bus, for example, my aura wouldn’t save me. But if I was struck by an aura, or say I was stabbed by a blade imbued with an aura – Like, oh yeah! That one time when you actually did that.” Her face fell instantly flat. “In those instances, my aura is able to reverse the blade’s effect. And seeing how most wounds in our world are wrought from the supernatural – my own case in point – you can see how my aura might be a handy thing to have.”

“And I’m sure Nagare capitalized off of that every chance he got,” he uttered flatly.

“He did. As a matter of fact, one of his other experiments has been to try to find a way to duplicate that power. Seeing as how I’m not a king, I couldn’t just give it to him. So he was trying to find another way to have it.”

“Why am I not surprised by how sinister that sounds?” He asked, meriting an outstretched palm in signal of her mutual agreement.

“One of several reasons why he encouraged me to finish writing the Kawaguchi Algorithm,” she finished.

“Ah yes,” he chimed in again, his voice devoid of pleasantry. “Let’s not forget the one thing Nagare should never ever have, which he now happens to have, thanks to you.” This time, it was he who splayed an open palm in her direction.

Kiyoka blinked a pricked expression, fidgeting in her place. “Rude,” she mumbled, mock hurt in her voice. “And also incorrect.”

Fushimi’s air of skepticism returned. “How?” He asked. “Are you saying Nagare doesn’t have the Algorithm?”

Kiyoka’s lips curled upward slightly, her green eyes glinting. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

A sudden burst of defiance rose up in Fushimi, striking through the practically non-existent boundary surrounding his anger. “And you didn’t think that was worth sharing?!” He blurted out, indignant.

Kiyoka shrugged. “Not really. So do me a favor and don’t tell anyone, will you?”

Fushimi looked about ready to pop. “You’re not serious.”

“Actually, I’m very serious. Because you see, Nagare doesn’t currently know that he doesn’t have the Algorithm. He only thinks he does, and I’d very much like to keep it that way.”

“How could he think he have it but not?” He asked, his wheels visibly turning over this new Rubik’s Cube of a thought. Then his eyes fell into slits, suspicion in his tone. “What did you do?” He uttered low and clearly at her.

Kiyoka shot a snide look at him, wrinkling her nose. “You don’t have to sound so accusatory. He is our enemy after all. Therefore, wouldn’t whatever I did be a good thing?”

“Okay then,” he granted her. “Please do share with me how you were able to swing it so that the master of deception was fooled into thinking he had something he doesn’t actually have.”

Instantly, Kiyoka’s features softened and she sat up, looking pleased. “That’s better, I feel a just a little bit more affirmed.”

“Well?” He pressed her.

“Alright, alright,” she waved at him. “When I built the algorithm in the first place, I thought it’d be a good idea to write in some parameters on who’s allowed to access it and who’s not. I couldn’t very well have just anyone logging in and spreading who-knows-what to anyone and everyone on earth. That would have been fairly stupid of me.”

“So you rigged it so that only certain people have access to it,” he said more as a statement than a question.

“Not ‘certain people,’” she corrected him. “One person.”

Fushimi stared, waiting for an answer. Kiyoka stared back, eyes bright and canny. “You?” He said, stunned, at which she formed an open grin.

“Ta da!” She uttered musically. “Clever, wasn’t it?”

It was. It was very clever.

“I think now you have an even bigger target on your back,” he said rather than praising her.

Kiyoka, in response to this, relaxed her shoulders in a disarming gesture, gazing out with wide, intrinsic eyes.

This action caught him off-guard and he shifted his own eyes from side to side, not quite comprehending what was happening. “What?” He finally asked her in a mild head shake.

“Awe, Sashimi,” she smiled, honey in her voice. “Are you worried about me?”

Astounded at his own actions, and even more frustrated at her for pointing them out, Fushimi jerked away from her. “What?” He spouted angrily. “No! Will you just – can you please be serious for once?”

Kiyoka blinked a couple times. “But I am being serious,” She answered, conveying a bewildered look.

Fushimi riled, wanting to boil over, but his lack of a comeback made it impossible. Instead, he groaned a hefty scoff and turned away, pinching fingers up against a tightly knitted brow. “Are you sure you didn’t pick me just so you could annoy me?” He asked, a sound of desperation in his voice.

“Probably,” she said, and he craned his neck to look at her, legs crossed, her feet dangling off the table as she looked on pleasantly.

Fushimi shook his head, brushing off the futile urge to continue. “Whatever,” he sighed, and began to pace before her, thinking. “So if we back up to –“ he wove a hand out in the air – “what we were talking about before.”

“You mean my brilliant plan to make myself the sole accessor to the Kawaguchi Algorithm?” She posed.

“Yes. I mean no. I mean…” He shook his head, flustered. “You know what? Sure, whatever. So, let me get this straight. You designed it specifically so that you are the only one who can go in and use it the way you did at the Crosswalk, correct?”

“Correct,” she nodded.

Fushimi kept on pacing. “Therefore, my only question is…” He stopped and turned to face her, his coattails flapping up against his knees. “How were you able to do that? Even an algorithm can be hacked.”

“Not when the algorithm is specifically engineered with supernatural elements that bind it to its host,” she chimed in happily.

Fushimi, having paced again, came once more to a halt. “You linked it to your aura,” he surmised. “The one noone else has and no one can figure out the origin of,” he added, his eyes sparkling.

Kiyoka pointed one long finger at him. “The very one,” she said, pleased. Even Fushimi couldn’t help but nod his own approval at this crafty bit of news. But then he turned again to his inherent skepticism. “Are you positive that Nagare hasn’t found a way to replicate it?”

Kiyoka sighed, slumping from his quick fall from excitement. “The only way to do that is with the Algorithm, which only I have access to,” she reminded him. “So, all in all, I’d have to say no.”

“But he is still working on the serum – now that you've depleted his stash, which, just out of curiosity,” he asked, “how much was he able to make before you…” he rose one hand and splayed his fingers, mimicking an explosion.

Kiyoka thought a moment. “To be honest, I wasn’t exactly in my right mind at the time.” Her mouth tweaked sideways, something of a ‘whoops’ conveyed, as though the thing were far less grave and much more understanding when the lives of many teetered on the line.

“When Nagare finally showed me the lab with the serum, my powers were on overload. I couldn’t really process minute details anymore,” she confessed. “Imagine being drunk but also exceptionally tired. Your senses start to blur a bit.”

Fushimi squinted lightly in response, retrieving, as it were, a memory from that day. “So that’s why you were acting so much weirder than usual that day at the Crosswalk,” he realized, finally putting two and two together.”

“Wow, really?” She replied, her tone hard. “I was practically dead, Sashimi. You didn’t see the toxic waste seeping out of me, making me insane? The very waste that Nagare and that psycho Douhan put in me?”

Fushimi paused, distracted. “I thought Douhan gave you the overdose of Imperium after the Crosswalk.”

“Yeah,” she said with attitude. “But up until then, it was still standard procedure to be injected with higher doses than normal – if you can really call any of that ‘normal,’” she grumbled. “Particularly when Nagare had me going off on assignments or when I was back doing jobs in the Underworld, I was taking it constantly. But when taken more than directed (which I was doing), and at higher doses (which I was also doing), the after-effects start to become a bit more… intense – to say the least. As does the addiction. So by the time Douhan gave me that hyper-dose, I was already so doped up, I didn’t even realize what was happening. All I knew was that I needed to get back to the lab, free the prisoners, and destroy the serum before Nagare got any further with his research. There was just one hitch in that plan. When I got there, the prisoners weren’t there.”

Fushimi flicked a finger in the air. “Hence the raid by the Lieutenant after the fact,” he said.

“Yeah, that was supposed to be me,” she conceded. “But things got…complicated. I found out the prisoners were being housed at a separate facility, which I was able to find out the location to. But the serum was at the lab I was currently at. So I took my chances, blew it up, intending to free the prisoners right after. Yet in the process of doing so, something went wrong.

“My power went haywire,” she said, flitting out a hand into the air as though the details were still hazy in her mind. “I couldn’t control it anymore. It was like it was trying to act out on its own. That’s when I realized (incorrectly at the time) that I’d been poisoned. I didn’t have enough time, nor enough energy, to free the prisoners on my own at that point. It would have been too dangerous. For them and for me.”

“So you came to get help.”

She hummed a ‘yes.’ “I knew I needed to tell Reisi where the prisoners were. I truly thought I was dying. But when I got to Scepter 4, I was so far gone, I barely made it past the entrance.

“I remember stopping for a rest at one point, and that’s when I saw your door- your name was written on it. I figured if I couldn’t get to Reisi directly, the next best thing would be to get to you. I knew I could trust you to make sure the information got to him and…well, you know the rest.”

Fushimi crossed his arms, having stood in silence, thinking all the while as she spoke. He strolled up to the window, fidgeting the blinds, opening them fully, then closing them, then turning them to how they were – half closed.

“There’s just one more thing I can’t understand,” he said at last. “Why go through all the trouble of giving Nagare everything he wanted? Even if you were just going to take it away, why give it to him in the first place? Were you only doing this to find and destroy Imperium test sites, to free their test subjects, and shut down the whole operation? Because that all seems rather secondary to me.”

“That’s a fair observation,” she said, at which, Fushimi turned a sidelong glare at her.

“Thank you, I’m so glad you approve. I’m right, though, aren’t I? There's more that you and the Captain aren’t telling me. Something else you’re planning.”

“Yes,” she said, her face a sober picture staring back at him. “There is something else. Something bigger even than discovering what Nagare’s grand plan is and finding a way to stop it.”

His interest piqued, feeling like, at last, he was getting somewhere, Fushimi left the window, strolling back up to her seated form. “So, there really is something more important than keeping a grade A psychopath from finding a way to give the entire world supernatural powers superior to our own, and you and the Captain have figured out what that is?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” she said.

A bolt of heat shot through him and he tipped his features slightly to the side, leaning in to fix an ardent stare at her. “Enlighten me,” he said to her, his heart rate quickening.

Kiyoka nudged in close until he felt her breath brush up against his lips. He didn’t budge, nor did she, because it was no longer a challenge at this point. Strangely, in that moment, a neutrality had found its way between them, some common ground just big enough for both of them to stand on without the fear of falling off.

Fushimi’s eyes were strong, penetrating, reaching out to hers; Kiyoka’s were the same, clear and smooth and calling out as well, finding him as he, in turn, found her.

Holding his gaze poignantly, a bit of her old craftiness returned, this time to his own gratification, at which point, she declared to him, “We’re going to kill Hisui Nagare.”

(Chapter IX: Infiltration // Chapter XI: Midnight)

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esonikofanfiction · 4 years

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S A R U H I K O • F U S H I M I

#saruhiko fushimi #fushimi saruhiko #scepter 4 #blue #k #k project #anime #anime gifs #gifs

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esonikofanfiction · 4 years

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K: TALES OF MIDNIGHT: CHAPTER IX: INFILTRATION

The room was chock full of high-ranking members of Scepter 4. Everyone was buzzing about the recent incidents surrounding Jungle. Following the attack at the Crosswalk and Rei Kiyoka’s subsequent strike and ultimate defection from Jungle’s ranks, the followers of Hisui Nagare had since become unhinged, wreaking all kinds of havoc throughout the city, as though their former actions weren’t enough.

According to Kiyoka, this was all a part of Nagare’s ploy. Chaos is a favorable distraction when concealing one’s motives. Fortunately enough, those of Scepter 4’s high command knew something of Nagare’s plans, thanks to Kiyoka’s efforts. Yet even so, the Green King was not one to follow through with all that was expected of him. King also of deception, there was ever the possibility that he had something else in mind, a well-known contingency that Blue King Munakata and his right-hand men and women sought to undermine with every procurable resource at their disposal.

Thereafter, it was Scepter 4's objective to flush out the insurgents behind these sporadic bouts of aggression springing up all over the city and to restore peace, all the while confirming Nagare’s ultimate goal by infiltrating Jungle’s network using the device that Fushimi expertly retrieved from Hirasaka Douhan in the Underworld a few days earlier. But these things were easier said and done. Jungle’s system was highly impregnable and the attacks themselves far more numerous in volume. Moreover the insurgents seemed to greatly outweigh those then flooding through the halls of Scepter 4. If this was any evidence, it could only mean one thing: Nagare was indeed planning something, and it was just as big – if not bigger – than Scepter 4 had anticipated. Now, more than ever, discovering his mission was imperative to stopping him.

In Scepter 4’s Operations Room on a cloudy afternoon, every monitor flashed something different. Breaking news segments, search modules, lines of code, voice and face recognition software and surveillance camera footage kept the Blues heavily occupied.

In the general throng, seated more or less together toward the rear of the room, Akiyama, Dōmyōji, Hidaka, Fuse, and Benzai were working diligently on their laptops while Fushimi did his own work separately nearby. Also present, seated alone in the back corner near Fushimi was Rei Kiyoka, the only non-member of Scepter 4 working on the case.

Unlike the others, clad in crisp blue uniforms, Kiyoka donned her tailored suit of midnight black, her long sleek trench coat worn atop her fitted dress and knee-high boots, her jet black waves cascading down her back. It posed a vast contrast that merited not one or two, but countless pairs of shifting eyes that all appeared to say the same unspoken thought, though none seemed keen to voice that thought aloud.

She was seeming more and more her old self – that is, her imperious, terrifying self that always looked as though she thought it might be fun to overthrow the world; or that at any moment, she might unleash her midnight aura, partnered with her deadly induced power, and proceed to slaughter everyone in the room. Perhaps that’s why the others kept their distance. Perhaps that’s what she wanted. But then again, perhaps not.

She wore at her waist her glistening rapier, much like the others of Scepter 4, who donned their sabers constantly as a rule. Only they didn’t look quite so unpredictable with theirs. She didn’t care, though. It didn’t seem to matter to her that she stood out, that others tried their hardest not to stare at her outright, yet did so openly when they thought she wasn’t looking. She was used to the attention – or rather, the scrutiny and judgement – of others by now.

Draping herself lazily in her seat, arms crossed, feet propped up on the table, her eyes were closed as though she were asleep, despite the overt bustle of the room. Beside her on the table sat an open laptop, its screen filled end-to-end with neon green as lines of code ran rampant like a never-ending ribbon, seemingly to nowhere. Kiyoka merely sat back, unperturbed, allowing it to run on uncontrolled. All the while, her cohorts were beyond themselves, the whole of their department set on high alert for hours since, and every member brimming with an endless stream of work. As such, the pensive looks cast onto Kiyoka morphed considerably to those of disapproval as the afternoon wore on, the general air about the room conveying that Rei Kiyoka’s lax demeanor marked the laissez faire attitude of an outsider. No longer did it speak of hopeful wonderings of the advantageous stranger who appeared to them with vital information and a willingness to help.

Through a set of open double doors, Lieutenant Awashima marched headlong into the room, one hand resting firmly on her saber. "Alright, everyone! Listen up!” She ordered in her crisp, commanding tone. The others, having rushed about their business, paused to offer their attention.

“As you know, Jungle is our top priority,” she emphasized. "Our mission is to gather as much intel as we can. I want to know where they are, what they’re planning, and how many people are involved. I want you to get inside their head’s, people! Learn everything you can! It’s absolutely vital that – “ She stopped abruptly, issuing a sigh of agitation. “Excuse me, will someone please wake her up?" She sent a pensive hand out, motioning to the darkly-clad delinquent to her left.

All eyes then descended onto Kiyoka.

Slowly, Kiyoka peeked one eye open, then the other, to look at the Lieutenant.

Awashima donned a heavy frown. “I do not appreciate your blatant disregard for protocol in high-alert affairs, Rei Kiyoka,” She declared derisively. “Nor the laziness with which you present yourself. You may not be a member of Scepter 4, but while you're in the building, you will show it the necessary respect it deserves. Do I make myself clear?"

Kiyoka didn't seem the least bit phased. Picking her feet off the desk, she rose, stuffing both hands in her pockets, and sashayed out the door without so much as a word.

The Lieutenant’s mouth dropped open and her right eye gave a noticeable twitch. "What do you think you're doing? Get back – !"

A ding erupted from Kiyoka's laptop, cutting her off. The frown she harbored magnified, her focus redirected onto the laptop.

Fushimi, having barely struck an interest in the feud that Awashima seemed insistent on rekindling, then found his senses piqued. Closest to the laptop, he reached a hand and spun the screen around.

The Lieutenant took a step in his direction, eyeing the computer. “What is it, Fushimi?”

"It's Jungle's network," he said, scanning it. "She got in."

Like a rush of wind, the former air of disdain flooded back to awe as shuffling gasps and gestures of confusion struck the members of the scene.

”How is that possible?" Hidaka rose, stunned as all the rest.

Beside him, Akiyama stared, his own confusion spreading like a sheet across his face. “But wasn't she asleep that whole time?” He asked.

"She didn't even move," Benzai confirmed, looking around skeptically.

Awashima thought a moment, setting her long fingers on her chin. “So then all that time, she was just…”

“Well, I guess we know now why she wasn't listening, Lieutenant," he said, straightening his glasses and so hiding his approval. Sharpening his focus on the screen, he buckled down and started typing deftly at the keys.

Akiyama sidled up to Awashima, speaking covertly. “Lieutenant, Jungle’s network is impossible to crack. We’ve been trying it for weeks. Ever since they upgraded their system, no one’s been able to come even close to breaching it. How’d she manage to do it? And so quickly, too?” He added, almost to himself.

Fushimi, having heard him, found this interesting. Apparently the Captain hasn’t told them yet. Even though she’s openly working with us, they still have no idea who she is or what’s going on – not the truth of it, anyway.

Amused, he set the thought aside to cut in, saying, “It doesn't matter how she got in. All that matters is she did. But we have to act fast." Focusing his sights, his fingers worked a mile a minute, pixelated flickers dancing wildly on the lenses of his glasses.

Fuse stole this moment’s chance to offer up a tone of disapproval, partnered with an all-consuming frown directed at Fushimi. ”You don't seem very surprised by any of this,” he probed.

“I’m not,” came the reply.

“So then, how’d you –?!”

“Look, if you want answers, ask someone else,” Fushimi parried, keeping his eyes locked on the computer screen. “We only have about five minutes before Jungle kicks us out, which means five minutes of absorbing as much data as we can."

"Can't you just run a download of their files?" The Lieutenant questioned him.

"It doesn't work like that,” he countered, his typing speeding up. “Jungle’s a constant open network of postings. Whenever a mission goes live, a player can respond to it, hitting the 'Accept' button. Once it's completed, the post is erased as new ones pop up automatically. Think of it as Jungle’s way of covering its tracks. I can't go back and look at prior postings. All I can do is run a sweep of the current ones and all the players who are active. By doing that, we might be able to identify some of the users and figure out their targets. We can intercept them before they carry out their missions – plus, maybe catch a glimpse of Nagare’s other plans while we’re at it.”

"Then hurry up and get it done,” Awashima ordered.

"What do you think I'm doing?" He returned, no less delicate.

Another moment of incessant typing from Fushimi and intense anticipation from the others brought a high-pitched beeping from the laptop. The others looked up with alarm but Fushimi kept his cool. "Well, they know we're here."

The Lieutenant journeyed up to him and peered around his shoulder. "I thought you said we had five minutes."

Fushimi scanned her briefly. ”All they've done is realize that we're here,” he said, sliding several inches from her. "It'll take them a few more minutes for them to initiate a full-system lockdown. We've still got time."

"Access the control room and flag their user network as corrupted," came Kiyoka’s creamy voice behind them. Somehow managing to escape the other's notice, she had slipped back into the room and was then leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed, observing them.

Both Hidaka and Dōmyōji looked to one another, baffled, and, turning to Kiyoka, Dōmyōji was the first to speak. "You mean setting off another alarm? What would be the point? They'll just shut us out even faster."

“They'll assume there's another hack coming from the user log-ins, and all remaining power will be routed to that one specific point," she explained, nearly bored. "They'll shut down user access, cutting off their currently active players from the system without fully kicking them out. It's their way of trapping the intruder so they can go through one-by-one and figure out who it is. So, while Jungle’s investigating them, so can you.

“Meanwhile, you can access the bulk of their internal database and set the parameters of their reboot to ensure another lockdown is impossible – at least until their servers are back online. Essentially, it'll lock the central mainframe out of its own program.” She didn’t bother looking up but rather turned to scrutinize her nails held up before her. Her thumb traced the black polish lining their tips. “That should buy you enough time to gather everything you need.”

The Lieutenant gave Kiyoka an irritated look, but turning to Fushimi, she said, "Can you do it?"

"Huh," he mumbled, and the Lieutenant froze.

"What is it? ...Fushimi?"

"She's right. By tripping the user access alarm, we can trick the system into thinking there are two intruders instead of one. It won't be able to fix them both at once, so it'll go to whichever one it sees as the bigger threat, which, in this case, would be a user hack. We'll just be seen as a part of the internal mainframe attempting to reset itself, and the system will revert to shutting down the user access module instead.”

"Eventually, though, the user network will reboot itself and you'll be rediscovered as the primary intruder,” Kiyoka warned him. “At which point, it'll resume the former shutdown of the mainframe, but not before you have a chance to sweep the entire network for intel.”

By this time, everyone had gathered around the Lieutenant and Fushimi to watch. Fuse came alongside also, facing Kiyoka. "How is it you know all this?" He asked, his eyebrow raised disdainfully.

Hardly moved, and as though it were obvious, Kiyoka replied, "Because I built it."

"Re-built it," Fushimi clarified, "using the Kawaguchi Algorithm."

Fuse, as well as the others, locked their eyes now on Fushimi, then Kiyoka yet again, all of them dumbfounded. Only the Lieutenant appeared less than pleased by this announcement.

"You mean you're the one who stole the Algorithm?" Akiyama asked.

In a quick response, Fushimi said, "She built that too."

"Hold on," Benzai said, waving a hand out in the air. He squinted tightly, thoroughly confused. "I thought you said that you two were competing for the Algorithm, meaning you were on opposite sides. You're telling me she’s actually been with us this whole time?”

"She's also good lying," came Fushimi’s terse reply.

Kiyoka grinned at this. "There you go again, Sashimi – "

" – Don't," he stopped her.

"There he goes...what?" Dōmyōji asked, shifting hesitating eyes between the two.

Fushimi shook his head. "You're just encouraging her,” he grumbled, but Kiyoka paid no heed to him.

Turning to Dōmyōji, she smiled. “Complimenting me,” she answered brightly. "He says he hates it, but he does it all the time."

There was a momentary pause, though in the midst of stricken revelations, the Lieutenant stepped between them, eyeing Kiyoka coolly. "If you built this system and the Kawaguchi Algorithm, why'd you waste valuable time in leaving when you could have stayed and done all this yourself?"

This was yet another discovery for Fushimi. Not even she knows everything, he realized, suddenly wondering if, in reality, he really did know more than he thought.

Kiyoka shrugged, her boredom not so hidden anymore. "I told you before I didn’t want to be here. I want to be out there, gathering intel,” she said, nodding toward the door. "Not in here, playing kids’ games. Besides, I already said I was leaving you in capable hands."

Startled momentarily, Awashima took just enough of a break from her scowl to widen her eyes briefly with a twitch. Slowly, she glanced sideways to observe the minor slant of Fushimi’s lips curved upward in a slightly twisted manner as he stared down at the screen.

"Got it!” he declared, and all at once, the high alarm from the computer ceased. "We're in.”

Kiyoka gave a little hmph, peeling herself off the wall. "See?" She said, popping her brow. And just as swiftly as she came, she was gone.

The others gathered closer to the desktop, each one more in awe than the next. Even Awashima, angry as she was, could not contain the stunned look on her face. Instantly, she started giving orders, the room a buzzing scene just as before.

Fushimi couldn’t hear them, though. Instead, he eyed the door from which Kiyoka left, all those thoughts surrounding her a whirl inside his head. They rose up, growing louder, louder, forcing their way out until he couldn’t keep his silence anymore.

He leapt from his chair, making straight for the door. The others paused their efforts, watching as he did. Perhaps they even called to him. He didn’t hear, nor did he care. More than anything, he knew he had to talk to her. Now, for once, he was going to get some answers.

(Chapter VIII: Esprit de Corpes// Chapter X: Answers)

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esonikofanfiction · 4 years

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K: TALES OF MIDNIGHT: CHAPTER VIII: ESPRIT DE CORPS

“Get that needle away from me!”

“Will you please stop shouting?!" 

“Put that needle down and I won’t have to!”

“I am trying to help you!”

“With a syringe in your hand?! I don’t think so!”

“It will only take a moment!“

“Is that’s supposed to comfort me?!”

Fushimi trailed the Blue King through the infirmary of Scepter 4, the sounds of raised voices resonating through the building. Fushimi recognized one of them as Lieutenant Awashima's, her perpetually haughty tone abnormally warped to the point of being completely unhinged.

The second one he knew to be the voice of Rei Kiyoka, though he’d never heard her yelling quite so loudly before. It was so unlike the cool, composed Rei Kiyoka he’d come to know and loathe. It gave Fushimi the odd impression that for once, he was listening to a person who was somewhat vaguely human – a very loud, annoying human, but a human nonetheless.

“Listen, you child,” they heard Awashima snipe. “I came here to monitor your progress. It’s not like I have to be here, you know!”

“No one’s stopping you from leaving!” Kiyoka shot back angrily. “So why don’t you do us both a favor and get the hell out of here! The door’s over there!” She pointed as the Captain and Fushimi both appeared inside the doorway. Instantly, her sunken features morphed from icy rage to consolation at the sight of Munakata.

“Well it’s about damn time,” she said to him.

The Blue King blinked a pleasant grin and strolled into the room.

Lieutenant Awashima took a step in his direction. “Captain. Thank you for coming.”

“I'm inclined to believe it’s impossible to leave either of you anywhere without you causing a stir,” He smiled.

The room was large, clean and open to the sun, which streamed in through large windows on the side.

Kiyoka sat upright in a hospital bed, propped against a set of crisp white pillows.

Stepping from the hallway, Fushimi couldn’t help but notice that she looked a trifle thinner than before. Her large, slanted eyes were bloodshot, her already bony arms more scrawny than he’d remembered. For a moment, he found himself wondering how such slender arms could have ever wielded so spectacularly the grand rapier he’d seen her thrashing out at him whenever he was near.

Not surprisingly, she’d foregone the doctors’ orders of wearing a hospital gown and went in her usual black, though her clothing seemed to fit her somewhat loosely now. Her collarbone protruded a little too drastically through the forestry of pitch-black veins that crept along her chest and neck. It gave her a skeletal appearance that was fairly disconcerting.

She had that well-known look of an addict suffering from withdrawal, yet an air of overwhelming power radiated out of her, squashing any notion that the Rei Kiyoka capable of anything was gone. However sickly she appeared, Fushimi had the distinct feeling – moreover, the certainty – that in her was grit more overbearing and impressive than he’d ventured to give her credit for before – not that he’d start mentioning it now.

The Captain sat beside her, accepting her extended hand. The blackened veins that riddled her hers formed a contrast to his own strong, healthy hands. He didn’t seem to mind, wrapping both hands over hers while gazing down at her. “How goes the treatment?” He asked.

Behind him, Awashima loomed, syringe in hand and looking stern. “Going well, I’d say.”

“Like hell it is!” Kiyoka snapped.

The two shared a calculating glare, each one challenging the other.

Kiyoka broke off first, turning to the Captain. “That woman is trying to kill me, Reisi.”

“Need I remind you, Kiyo, of what might happen in your current state, should you be left alone?” He kindly pressed her.

“You know full well that I’m the last person who needs reminding. Or have you forgotten everything I – Ahh!” She cut off in a wince, doubling over in a sudden jolt of pain and nearly toppled off the bed.

Munakata caught her arm, as though he were expecting it, and laid her back again. Taking her face gently in his hand, he stroked her tense features through the pain.

“I’ll be fine,” she said through gritted teeth.

The backs of Munakata’s fingers traced the curvature of her cheek. "As convincing as that is, you’ll forgive me if I take some extra precautions to ensure that is the case.”

“If she had listened to me in the first place and accepted my treatment plan, she wouldn’t be in so much pain,” Awashima pointed out.

Kiyoka made an instant recoil, eyeing the syringe. “You touch me with that thing, and I’ll –“

“You’ll what?” Awashima challenged, and without a pause, she snatched Rei Kiyoka’s head, jerked it back, and, with help from Munakata to hold her down, administered the contents of the syringe into one of the black veins in Kiyoka’s neck.

Kiyoka gave a painful shriek, exerting all her effort first to escape it, then to endure it. Even Fushimi had the rare urge to intervene, only stopping himself at Munakata’s words spoken to him earlier in the Underworld.

You see, I happen to love her, he had told Fushimi, which meant that what Kiyoka was currently going through at Munakata’s hand was tearing the Blue King apart. Yet, he was able to deal with it.

Reactively, the tension in Fushimi’s shoulders eased back a bit.

When it was finished, Kiyoka pried herself away from Awashima and slunk back into the corner of her bed as though attempting to hide. Shaking, tears streaming down her face, she drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. She began to rock, every swaying motion another breath in, then out. All the while, she had a hazy, tortured look on her face. It was like she had been through that a million times before, yet every time was just like the first.

To Fushimi, she looked like she had momentarily left the room. Her body remained but her mind was somewhere else – in the past – where she was forced to relive every awful thing that had ever happened to her.

‘You can never escape your past,’ he quoted to himself. It made him think of his own cruel history and the way it kept on popping up again and again – just when he thought he’d forgotten it. And every time it did, he was reminded of its hold on him, how it had a tendency to make him believe that he would never overcome it, never move forward, that he, too, would never be free. No wonder she’s the way she is, he concluded.

A moment passed. Kiyoka began to settle down.

The Captain made to reach for her but she recoiled instantly, shooting him a wounded look. Then something inside her seemed to bring her back and her eyes softened as she looked at him.

Munakata nodded.

Kiyoka nodded back.

Then her eyes panned to Awashima, seething anger pouring out of them.

“I hate needles.”

“You’re welcome,” The Lieutenant blinked imperiously.

“I never asked for your help, you stuck-up bi–!”

"You passed out three more times since I came in here,” Awashima said, cutting her off. “If you'd have been alone – "

"I would have been fine! If you’d have just stopped nagging me with stupid questions on Imperium every single moment I wasn’t passed out and actually done your research, you’d know that – "

"I was trying to learn how better to treat you!"

"What do you think that's for?" She asked, pointing a shaky, blackened finger to the vials of Imperium on the table. "That's the only thing that can! Besides, you're not a doctor!"

"I may not be a doctor but I've done extensive research on the subject and I believe that – "

“Oh, here we go.” Kiyoka sighed, drooping her head against the pillows.

Awashima began to fume. Hands thrust angrily on her hips, she roared out, "If you'd quit acting so unreasonable, just maybe – !"

Munakata laughed, silencing them both. "I didn't think you'd get on quite so well, but I do see I was wrong."

Fushimi looked on dubiously. "This is getting along?” He asked, bewildered.

"I admit, I'm quite pleased," the Captain grinned. Then, turning to the Lieutenant, he said, “I imagine you’ve learned something in your ‘extensive research,’ Ms. Awashima?”

“If you can really call what she did ‘research,’” Kiyoka said, deliberately not under her breath.

“Indeed I have, Captain,” the Lieutenant answered over her, and, glaring at Kiyoka, added, "despite the circumstances."

“Well, by all means, please convey your report, Lieutenant,” he said, motioning both Awashima and Fushimi to sit.

The Lieutenant did so, taking up a chair close to the Captain and as far away from Kiyoka as she could.

Fushimi, having spent the entirety of their conversation in the safety of the doorway, sauntered in at last and stole a seat by the window.

When all were seated, the Lieutenant crossed her legs and began.

“When you first informed me, Captain, of the poison that this Hirasaka Douhan had administered to Miss Rei, I was naturally anxious to discover its origin so that I might develop an antidote to counteract it. To this end, I ran a sample of Miss Rei’s blood while she was unconscious – "

" – You did what?!” Kiyoka howled.

" – and found incredibly high levels of Imperium,” the Lieutenant went on, eyes closed in an attempt to ignore her. “Far superior to what she would have experienced while under the charge of Hisui Nagare.”

Kiyoka’s eyes narrowed. "You needed a blood sample to figure that out?"

Awashima rolled her eyes. “Allow me to clarify. What I found was Imperium and only Imperium in your blood. But what made that discovery particularly unique was just how much Imperium I found. The dosage you received was most likely increased by about two hundred percent compared to your normal dose.”

Fushimi knit his brow. “Meaning…what?”

The Lieutenant gave a sigh, as though no one in the world aside from the presently (and moreover frustratingly) silent Munakata was capable of following her thought process. “What I managed to discover was that Miss Rei was not actually poisoned – at least, that was not the intent, despite the apparent outcome."

“You mean she wasn’t really dying?” Fushimi clarified.

“Um, excuse me,” Kiyoka intervened, offended. “Why don’t you try massively over-injecting yourself with a very real and actually poisonous drug,” she clarified, glaring at the Lieutenant, “and then see how you fare. It’s called an ‘overdose,’ genius. Look it up.”

Fushimi knelt back, draping his arm across the chair back. “You’re fun today. So, if she wasn't poisoned by Nagare for betraying him...what?” He waved a hand in question to the others.

“Uh-oh,” Kiyoka uttered suddenly, a look of dread spreading across her face. Glancing to the Lieutenant, all defiance disappeared. "He only wanted me to think he was trying to kill me.”

"Precisely," Awashima nodded, far too satisfied.

"If that's true,” Fushimi ventured, “then that would explain why Hirasaka said, 'We've all a part to play in Hisui's game.’ According to him, you’re still playing yours,” he said to Kiyoka.

The Captain set an elbow on his knee, stroking his chin. "It would appear that he had hoped to give you cause to return to whomever sent you to him in the first place. In order to sufficiently frighten you into doing so, he needed to make you believe that you were dying. The most plausible option, therefore, would have been to formulate a mass influx of your power – one that extended beyond the bounds of your control and so giving you the impression that you had been poisoned.”

"But to what end?" The Lieutenant asked, crossing her arms. "Why keep her alive just to send her back to his enemy?"

Kiyoka glared. “Careful.”

"Think about it. He must have known already that if it wasn’t Scepter 4 who sent her there in the first place, we would surely be the ones to ultimately treat the effects of the drug inside her system."

“I believe you may be on to something," Munakata replied. "Hisui would be aware that we would need the proper tools in order to sufficiently treat her, and those tools may only be acquired by Scepter 4 under my authority. Naturally, then, it is I and I alone who possess such means."

"And Hisui hopes to profit from those means, is that it?" Fushimi asked.

"It would make sense," Kiyoka supplied, her wheels noticeably turning. "The only Imperium stock Nagare has access to is through second-hand means. To try and create another successful case, he’d need truckloads of it, plus access to test subjects already undergoing the Imperium Procedure.“

“Which he had until we managed to free them this morning,” supplied the Lieutenant.

“Exactly. And now that I’ve left him, too, and destroyed his access to the serum, he wouldn’t want to waste valuable time going back to square one. Most likely, he’ll try and find other labs that contain Imperium, the serum and the test subjects he needs in order to complete the Procedure, as well as the replication process.”

“Wait, hold on,” Fushimi waved a hand to stop her. “Why is he trying to create a serum that can give people supernatural powers if he can just use the Kawaguchi Algorithm to give them his aura?”

“Nagare doesn’t want to give the world his powers,” Kiyoka explained. "He wants to find a way to give the world the power that’s created from the serum, which is a much stronger power that isn’t bound to any king but that’s specific to each person’s genetic makeup. That’s what the serum does – or that’s what the proper serum without the explosive side effects does,” she specified, extending both her hands by way of a gesture to herself.

“Nagare managed to create such a serum that syncs itself with an individual’s DNA to create an entirely unique power that goes beyond that of ordinary aura wielders. Just think of my power but with no limitations, no side-effects, and most of all, no way of stopping it. Then think of every person on the planet having access to that power.”

“Okay, so serum – bad,” Fushimi concluded. “Imperium – also bad. And right now, Nagare has access to neither of these – nor to any qualified lab rats. However…”

“He probably thought that if he had a way to get straight to the source..." Kiyoka looked at the Captain, her words trailing off.

Awashima sat up to attention. "If that's the case, then you are in danger, Sir. We should – "

"I'd like to see how things play out," The Captain said, raising a hand. “Now that we have sufficiently managed to relieve Hisui of his means of achieving his rather ambitious goals, I believe his next step would be fairly interesting to witness, don’t you?”

“But Reisi –“ Kiyoka began.

“Is that truly the smart thing to do?” The Lieutenant said at the same time, and the two shared a glance.

Leaning toward the Captain, Fushimi chimed in. “Sir, what’s your angle?”

The Blue King turned a cunning eye to him. “Assuming Hisui’s goal is to bestow the world with the supernatural capabilities derived from the serum, he will doubtless be on the lookout for another source – now that his has recently been depleted.”

“Sounds logical. Anyone got any ideas on where he’d find some?”

“As it happens,” Kiyoka offered, “That was one of my objectives when I first went undercover.”

The others looked to her as both she and the Captain shared a nod.

“Since Nagare’s only source of the Imperium drug was and is through alternate means, I would work to help him find reputable sources from among the underground organizations that he could draw from. There are actually quite a lot,” she added.

“When we would find one, we would raid it for supplies. Afterward, Reisi would infiltrate it and shut it down. It worked out pretty well. Nagare’s got such a high ego, he didn’t care what happened to the facilities once he was through with them, so it’s not like he would have noticed as, one-by-one, they were exterminated, their test subjects freed, and their labs completely wiped.”

“But what of the test subjects that Nagare commandeered for his own lab?” Fushimi intervened.

This time, Munakata answered. “As word of our involvement would have invariably altered Hisui’s plans, Scepter 4 could not risk issuing the first move. Thus, our actions were limited to cleaning up the mess in Hisui’s wake. That is why I arranged a rescue mission for those that were abducted over the course of his crusade. It was Miss Rei, here, who ultimately discovered the location of those prisoners, at which point, we spared no time in bringing them to safety.”

“After you got all the other information you needed,” Fushimi clarified. “I bet they thanked you for that.”

“I am not here to be thanked,” returned the Captain honestly.

“It was because of Reisi that countless lives have been spared the fate that not only I faced, but the fate of others who were not so lucky to have survived as I had,” said Kiyoka, “Organizations – or at least the smaller ones – were permanently shut down, their leaders apprehended by Scepter 4 and their prisoners returned to their families or provided with new ones after receiving medical treatment right here.” She motioned to the infirmary surrounding them.

"The more prominent organizations, however, we had to be more crafty with. That’s why Nagare never hit the larger corporations, and in turn, neither did we. Nagare knew that by hitting the smaller ones that only had one location to strike, he obviously wouldn’t incur any backlash from the organizations themselves. The larger companies with many facilities, however, was considered too big of a risk.”

“Until now,” Fushimi guessed.

“He must have planned for this,” the Lieutenant added. “Possibly as a fail safe at first if anything went wrong.”

“It would explain why it all seems preconceived,” Fushimi noted.

“He understood the risks beforehand, therefore all he had to do was work the play in his favor so that he had the most to gain if ever he was in a position to take more drastic measures.”

“Like tackling a massive conglomerate.”

“Most likely, that’s his plan, yes,” Kiyoka nodded. “We shut down our fair share of smaller labs, so even if he wanted to hit up another one – or several, for that matter – there aren’t very many left, and none of them are conveniently located. Knowing his situation at the moment, he needs something that is convenient – and fast. At this point, he probably thinks it’s worth the risk of any repercussions on the part of the target, especially if he can piggyback a larger, well-supplied force.”

“Like Scepter 4,” Awashima finished.

Fushimi rubbed his chin, thinking. “Then all we have to do is pick a target and wait for him to show up. Then we can turn the tables on him.”

“By using the ointment to attack the bigger fly,” Munakata smiled to himself.

Fushimi looked to him. “That’s right,” he said, a bit hesitant.

“But even so,” The Lieutenant intervened, “we cannot count on Nagare to make a move only when we offer him one. There is still the possibility that he may attempt to infiltrate another source on his own, in which case, we should work on monitoring Jungle’s movements, their attacks, take some of their operatives in for questioning and gather as much intel as we can. If there are further test subjects in danger and stockpiles of Imperium and potentially the serum out there for him to target, we need to be prepared in order to stop him.”

“We can try hacking Jungle’s system,” Fushimi offered, sliding a covert glance to Kiyoka.

Her emerald eyes bore into slits, a hidden smile lingering behind them.

The Lieutenant shook her head. “We’ve attempted it before without success.”

“Somehow, I think we have a better chance of succeeding this time,” he said, now looking straight at Kiyoka.

As her smile showed itself, he quickly blinked away.

“Captain, with your permission, I’d like to try. If we can get into their network, we might be able to confirm Nagare’s next move, whether it’s to follow our lead or to go rogue on some other medical facility – or both, or something totally different.”

The Blue King nodded promptly. “Granted. Both you and Kiyo will head up that assignment.”

Fushimi perked his head up to attention. “You mean… together?”

“Naturally,” replied the Captain. “It will give you two some time to get better acquainted. And I dare say that if I leave Kiyo alone with nothing to do, I may have a one-woman uprising on my hands.”

Kiyoka answered flatly. “Gee, you make me sound like such a fun person to be around. As if being a human time bomb wasn’t enough for everyone.”

“At least a bomb can be disarmed,” the Captain said by way of a comeback. “In most cases, that is.”

Kiyoka rolled her eyes. “Lovely. I’ll just follow Sashimi around until I blow, then, shall I?”

“Wait, what?” Fushimi asked. “I’m not going to -“

“It won’t come to that, I assure you,” said the Captain. “Besides, I have already instructed Ms. Awashima to concoct an antidote, which you just now received.”

“An antidote?” Both Kiyoka and Fushimi said at once, startling both to look at one another, then the Captain, then Awashima, who merely crossed her arms and sighed.

“That’s what I was attempting to tell you all the while you were shouting at me,” she said haughtily. “That blood sample I took from you earlier –“

“Which I’m never going to forgive you for,” Kiyoka stopped her. “Extracting blood from an unconscious victim is plain wrong.”

“Would you have let me take it, had you been awake?”

“Of course not,” Kiyoka emphasized, inciting yet another sigh from Awashima.

“Precisely. Which is why I stand by my decision. And as it happened, I was able to use that sample to compose an antidote – albeit a temporary one until I can conduct more thorough research. This formula contains the same stabilizers present in Imperium, though without the inducers, which are doubtless far more detrimental to your health. You will no longer experience the effects of an overly-heightened power and the withdrawal that comes after it. Your powers will normalize, but only if you take the antidote regularly.”

“So, what you’re saying is: you’re essentially trading one addictive drug for another,” Fushimi posed, and Kiyoka sent an instant, outstretched hand in his direction, as if to say, Finally! Someone else who agrees that this is stupid!

“The point I believe Ms. Awashima is trying to make,” the Captain intervened, taking Kiyoka’s hand again, “is that while you are weaning yourself off of Imperium and begin a less lethal medication, we may work on a way to release you from the need to rely on any drug to balance out your powers in the future.”

Leaning in, his tone turned affectionate. “I promise, Kiyoka. You will be free. But it will take time. You must trust that we –“ he broke off, peering to Fushimi, Awashima, then back to her, “are here to work together, to help you. If we can find a way to do that, we can find a way to help others as well.”

Kiyoka met his glance, attempting to be firm. It didn’t take.

“That isn’t fair,” she caved to Munakata’s growing smile. Fingering his hand in hers, she asked, “What do you want me to do?”

“For now,” he said, “nothing whatsoever.”

Kiyoka tipped her features in a quizzical expression. “Nothing? Wouldn’t you rather me be out there?” She asked, nodding her head toward the window. “I can still be your eyes and ears on the outside.”

“How?” Fushimi asked. “Your cover’s blown.”

“Not all my contacts were Jungle operatives,” she explained. “And not all of my work was for Nagare, either.”

“Oh, that’s nice to hear,” his tone sardonic. “So, you’ve got an entire resume of jobs just like the one you had with Nagare.”

“Yeah, actually it looks a lot like yours,” she smiled wickedly at him. “But if you must know, I created it in order to back up my cover. I couldn’t just show up out of the blue and expect Nagare to notice me right off the bat without any experience with which to prove myself. That would have been too obvious. I needed to build a background that was believable – a sort of reputation he wouldn’t have questioned. The Underworld was the easiest place to do that.

“Over time, my business grew, as did my reputation, and ultimately, that’s where I conducted most of my affairs, even after I started working for Nagare. I could go back and there and collect information while Sashimi –“

“Stop calling me that, damn it,” he objected with a cringe.

“While Mister I’m-Too-Sensitive-To-Nicknames,” she emphasized, “stays here and hacks into Jungle.”

Fushimi paused his growing urge to spar with her to offer her a look of grand bewilderment. Of the two, she was the one better qualified to hack into Jungle’s system – for obvious reasons.

“I have no doubt of your abilities, Kiyo,” the Captain assured her, jumping in before Fushimi had a chance to speak. “However, for the plan I have in mind, I should like you to remain here. For all intents and purposes, you are gravely ill and in desperate need of more medicine, which I will endeavor to acquire – with your aid," he added, nodding to both Awashima and Fushimi. “Together, we may just have a chance to bring order to this situation, and, with any hope, to the world as well."

(Chapter VII: Underworld // Chapter IX: Infiltration)

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esonikofanfiction · 4 years

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Following the grand explosion of events at Ashinaka High School and the fall of the Colorless King, Saruhiko Fushimi of Scepter 4 is sent by Blue King Reisi Munakata to investigate the theft of the Kawaguchi Algorithm, a piece of technology that coincides with supernatural energy, only to discover another player is afoot, wielding an aura darker than the blackest sky at midnight.

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esonikofanfiction · 4 years

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esonikofanfiction · 4 years

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K: TALES OF MIDNIGHT: CHAPTER VII: UNDERWORLD

It was half past midnight as Captain Munakata led Saruhiko Fushimi down a windy stair into the sewers beneath the city, with nothing but a fist-sized ball of Munakata's aura hovering above them to ignite their path.

It was cold and dank and smelled like fish, though not the kind that sounded appetizing. It was far too pungent, verging on the cusp of the unbearable the deeper in they went.

On every surface lay a filthy layer of grime that only served to add to the displeasure of it all. Fushimi wasn't a stickler for cleanliness any more than the next guy, yet the sight of the abhorrence lingering around them made him cringe. Unconsciously, his upper lip curled sideways with disgust.

It had been without a word of warning when the Blue King called Fushimi out of Scepter 4 to join him on what seemed to be some sort of covert mission through the slime-infested passages of Shizume's Underworld – not at all the keenest of places that Fushimi would have liked to have spent his night parading in. His only thought to reason why the Captain would have dragged him there without an explanation was that Kiyoka had since given him the coordinates of Hisui Nagare's lair – his true lair – and that time was of the essence in discovering it and bringing it to rest; yet, truth be told, now that Rei Kiyoka had been deemed more or less one of the 'good guys,' Fushimi was a little less certain as to what the overall objective was.

Naturally, the Kawaguchi Algorithm in the hands of the Green King posed an ample threat that needed to be dealt with. Already, it had been used to ramp up Jungle's network in some brazen scheme to virtually give the citizens of Tokyo the power of an aura. If left unfettered, all the world could be next – an outcome that Fushimi and the rest of Scepter 4 would fight at all costs to avoid.

It was also true that Nagare was a proven egomaniac, a dispenser of chaos who, in Fushimi's eyes, was better stripped of power than allowed to roam unchecked as he had done from the beginning. Sadly, neither of those reasons served to change the fact that what Fushimi had to do, the part he had to play, was suddenly obscure. Everything he'd done and sought to fight for up until then seemed at once inconsequential.

The Kawaguchi Algorithm had been made by Rei Kiyoka, given to Hisui Nagare by Rei Kiyoka, implemented on the citizens of Tokyo by Rei Kiyoka. The one working with Nagare to complete his goals in every regard – his own right hand, as it were – was no one other than she, the darkened silhouette, the hazy, unidentifiable figure, the one and only Rei Kiyoka. She had been Fushimi's mission, his obsession. Nothing else and no one else compared.

And yet, in a strange turn of events, that very same Rei Kiyoka lay protected under the auspicious care of Blue King Reisi Munakata. What part of that was supposed to make sense to Fushimi? Was he blind in finding fault in it? In seeking for answers? He didn’t think so. And yet, no one seemed inclined to give him any, as though, in fact, it was quite wrong to question it.

That wasn’t even the end of it. For all those things, having been so gloriously deceived, not merely by Rei Kiyoka but by Munakata himself, it appeared he was to linger in the darkness of the lost and the unknown, for despite several attempts to gain an explanation (not of grander things pertaining to Rei Kiyoka, but of petty little matters such as what it was they happened to be doing in the depths of the Underworld at so ungodly an hour) the night had passed considerably and still – to the burgeoning contempt of Fushimi – the Captain mentioned nothing. Behind his ever-lingering scowl, a fire kindled, though he knew not what to do with it – that is, not yet.

About halfway down their spiral trek, the slick, narrow walls expanded into a wide, central cavern.

The aura light zoomed above them, growing into a larger sphere that lit the scene in tender bluish hues.

The light revealed a vaulted ceiling high above a river full of waste. Even in the hazy dim, the room was hardly awe-inspiring, particularly when paired with such a rancid stench. Yet, something in its emptiness confirmed to both that watchfulness ran rampant in the dark, despite the bare facade that had been carefully laid out for them.

A score of tunnels branched in all directions from the cavern, no doubt leading downward to the populated areas of the Underworld, or else to countless darkened halls ill-kept, if not abandoned or forgotten altogether. It was nothing out-of-the-ordinary. Such was the way of the Underworld: no path was ever certain but that all were met with darkness at the end.

Fushimi stole an eye up to the ceiling, spotting massive cobwebs dripping down like haunted banners. "Would you mind telling me now why you dragged me all the way down here on some independent crusade, Captain?" He ventured in another gruff attempt.

There was a mild silence after and Fushimi had a passing thought that this attempt, as well as every other, had been brutally in vain.

"I'm surprised," the Captain said at last.

Fushimi was so thrilled, it made him that much more annoyed.

"I thought you would have been pleased at the prospect of a solo operation, Mr. Fushimi. After all, is that not your preferred method of conducting yourself?”

Munakata gripped a metal ladder and descended down, where the path continued on along the riverbed.

Fushimi followed, though his foot slipped on the final bar and he landed with a splash into a puddle full of muck.

A grumble of revulsion hit the air as, one-by-one, he gave each boot a steady kick, shaking off the filth.

"I was under the impression that working solo necessitated the need for just one person, Captain.’

Lifting a boot, he examined the sludge caked thickly on its sole. "And yet, here we are," he said, plopping it down again. “The two of us.” Unamused, he strolled passed the Captain. “Some solo operation.”

Reisi Munakata brimmed with pleasantry. ”I do believe you are angry with me, Mr. Fushimi."

“What gave it away?"

The Blue King hummed a chuckle of amusement. "A part of you I've always liked, Mr. Fushimi, is your vast indifference toward those endowed with higher powers than your own."

"I don't see what's so special about them," Fushimi answered. "All power does is give ordinary people a better chance at screwing things up – that, and an obsessive superiority complex."

He came upon another puddle swamped with soggy leaves and bits of Styrofoam. This one, he successfully avoided.

"Power doesn't make people better," he went on. "It usually always makes them worse. And here, I'm supposed to bow down and accept that? Like I'm admitting I'm just some worthless being in comparison?" He clicked his tongue. "No thanks."

"Yes, that is precisely why I admire you," resumed the Captain. "There is no aspect of such power that you find to be of any reputable value. In fact, if you felt anything beyond indifference, I would think it would be that you loathe the power of kings. It is because of that blatant honesty symbolic of your character that I honor your opinion."

Fushimi twitched at the compliment.

"I don't mind you giving orders, Captain, but what I do mind is following along blindly for a cause I've been deliberately kept from. If you knew her, why didn't you tell me? At least then I could have been prepared. As it was, you had me running in circles, looking like an idiot. You of all people run on efficiency, Captain. What part of that was supposed to be efficient?"

The Captain hummed agreeably behind him. "Efficiency is proven in results, is it not? Seemingly meaningless actions jumbled together may appear chaotic; however it is what comes after – the fruition of those actions – that will ultimately prove just how efficient was the path that led one to success."

"Don't give me that," Fushimi checked him. "You could have filled me in, so why didn't you? And don't say it was because you wanted to make it look more realistic."

The Captain answered airily. “I merely hoped that you would form a natural opinion of her."

A grinding footstep brought Fushimi briskly to a halt. "'Natural?'" He repeated, turning sideways to the Captain. "Nothing about her is natural."

Munakata’s look turn cunning. "Nor you, I would imagine."

Fushimi slunk uncomfortably and turned away, picking up the pace again.

The Captain continued. "Early on, I sensed a growing familiar between you two – a resemblance in potential, if you will. In my curiosity, I simply wished to see how said potential stood to flourish as a product of continued interaction."

Fushimi's tone was anything but delicate. “That’s a horrible excuse. I’m now wishing you’d told me it was to make it look more realistic. At least that's a somewhat tactical reason and not completely pointless."

The Captain seemed to shrug. ”Very well, then. I was 'trying to make it look more realistic.’ Does that please you?"

"Not even a little," Fushimi shot back. "Especially since she knew everything, and so did you. I was the only one involved who didn't actually know I was involved. It wouldn't have taken your brain to know that I'd have a problem with it, yet you went and did it anyway. I want to know why. What is so important about her that you’d shut me out?”

The Captain didn’t answer.

“I get that you were using her as a spy and all, and that part of maintaining her cover was to make people think she was the enemy – those of Scepter 4 included – but that's not the whole story, is it? There's more – a lot more. And for whatever reason, you're being more difficult than usual about it. So I'm asking you nicely to stop messing around and tell me what it is. Given just how thoroughly you've been using me in all of this, don't you think I've earned the right to know what's really going on? And why you've been so secretive about it?"

"In this 'messing around,' as you say," the Captain quoted him, "I find myself compelled to note that, as I may appear to be 'difficult,' you also seem quite vexed compared to your usual petulance, Mr. Fushimi.”

“Hell yeah, I'm 'vexed,' Fushimi mimicked him. "You knew the whole time and yet even last night when all of –" he waved a gesture – "that happened, when it was clear an explanation was in order, you just left me there and expected me to look after her without an explanation as to why I even should — not the truth of it, anyway. All you did (or what the Lieutenant did) was throw a bunch of facts up in the air and just assumed it was enough. Then later, when it suited you to come back and deem me as unnecessary, still keeping me out of the loop, you proceeded to tell me that her life was in my hands. If you really trusted me with that like you claimed you did, if you honestly believe in anything you just said about me, you'd know I'm not the kind of person who's so easily pawed into obedience.

“I've never been one to play the pawn, Captain. You said so yourself. I sure as hell don’t intend to be one now.”

"Nor would I expect you to be,” Munakata assured him. "Thus have I’ve brought you here under the pretense of revealing my intentions; though I have to wonder if, at the heart of all these questions, Mr. Fushimi, there does not lie a certain weight upon your conscience – something you've not brought yourself to face because you choose not to accept it."

Fushimi turned a sidelong glare at him. “Seriously? We’re really going to do this? Now? Instead of answering the question, still you’re going to make me work for it?”

A moment passed, the Captain saying nothing.

Fushimi sighed. “Great.”

The pair came to another arching cavern veering left into the void.

The Captain paused, staring into it. Issuing two fingers out, he waved the light before them. A smaller, rounded passageway took shape and they ventured in, walking side-by-side.

"It was a simple observation, really,” came the Captain's smooth defense.

“Maybe for you," Fushimi countered.

Munakata sent another of his teasing looks to pierce the hazy bluish scene surrounding them. It was one of those dual features that appeared to hold a deeper meaning – perhaps several meanings, and all of them confusing. It made Fushimi angry every time. Was the Captain toying with him? Was he testing him? Or maybe, just maybe, was he trying to tell him something? Fushimi could never tell. So, instead of wasting energy, he resumed his usual scowl and carried on.

Just ahead, their light revealed a looming fork, and once again, the pair were forced to stop. "Now, here is quite the riddle isn't it?" Munakata said, scanning either fork.

"You mean your map didn't tell you about this?" Fushimi sneered, waltzing past the Captain.

He knew as well as anyone that maps were rendered useless in the ever-changing sanctum of the Underworld, but it didn’t stop him harping on the Captain any chance he got.

Peering into each, they both appeared the same, though scorch marks on the ground and walls called out to him intrinsically within the left-hand fork. He took a knee, sweeping his long fingers in an outline on the ground. Munakata followed suit and crouched down low beside him, watching.

Fushimi drew his fingers back abnormally clean. The grime had been erased from where he outlined. The stone was dry, warm, and stained jet-black. An aura had been used – and recently, too.

The Captain whisked his ball of light before then into the fork. More of the same markings covered every wall. "You see, Mr. Fushimi?" He said, rising. "Why carry a map when I have my hidden weapon user?"

Fushimi rose, released a scoff, and together, the pair began to follow the scorch marks.

"Captain, these aren't ordinary aura burns," Fushimi pointed out. "They're the same ones that woman made at Headquarters."

"That is correct," replied the Captain, rising. "Which brings me to the matter of Miss Rei.

Fushimi scanned a covert eye to him.

"As I'm sure you've already guessed," he began, "Miss Rei had indeed been delivered by myself from the unfortunate fate she had endured for many years since the time of her childhood – that is to say, a life of isolation and no small amount of pain, one perpetually bound to the scientific whims of a certain medical organization called Ignatius Banks.”

“I’ve heard of it,” Fushimi noted. “They’re the leading institute in genetic engineering.”

“The very one. And while, on the surface, Ignatius Banks retains its place as Japan’s most successful institution, providing significant genetic discoveries to mankind, underneath lies a world of supernatural exploitation that fuels its outlying success. One of these exploitations happens to be–“

“The creation of the Imperium drug,” Fushimi finished for him.

“Indeed. Miss Rei was one such subject who took part in the early stages of what we now refer to as the Imperium Procedure.”

Fushimi scowled. "'Since the time of her childhood.'" He said, recalling the Captain’s words. "You're telling me she grew up in a place like that? Trapped in some fluorescent prison, being experimented on like an animal?"

Just then, he remembered what Rei Kiyoka had said mere hours before.

Can your worth be measured in a test tube?

Fushimi’s jaw tightened. The words still echoed just as poignantly in his mind. Mine can, he heard her say over and over again, spinning in his brain like a merry-go-round that wouldn't stop.

Unsettled, he turned his face away, hiding his expression from the Captain.

"You mean she lived like that her whole life?" He asked in something of a whisper. He realized he was angry.

The Captain, if he noticed, made no sign of it.

"The greater part of it, yes," he answered. "Some of her earliest memories can be recalled as those trapped in a cell or in a lab, constantly injected with every variation of the Imperium drug – among other elixirs, I imagine."

A flicker of venom surfaced in his voice, but only just, and then it disappeared.

"Venturing a guess, if you were to ask her what her life was like before Ignatius Banks, I doubt she would have an answer for you."

And here, I thought my childhood was bad, Fushimi mused.

"As Lieutenant Awashima has already supplied," resumed the Captain, "there are many, who, like Miss Rei, have spent their lives in a similar state of captivity. Upon learning this, I proactively engaged myself in bringing them to safety under the protection only Scepter 4 can provide. Among those whom we had liberated, however, it was Miss Rei who was a rarity among them, as it was she alone who had survived the Imperium Procedure to completion."

He gave a thoughtful hum, reflecting, as it were, on the memory of it all.

"She was remarkable, really," he confessed. "Not only did I detect a highly gifted Strain and aura wielder when I first encountered her, but I noticed something more, something I…did not expect."

He took another step and paused. Fushimi, walking alongside him, stopped as well.

"What I found," the Captain stated gently, his back to Fushimi, "was a quality much more infinite in value than the ones she's since acquired — a quality I cannot, in proper terms, convey to you so as to make you recognize the depth of my intent. Merely, I understood her as an individual to whom I would devote myself entirely. It is she, I realized, who would very well become the one to tip the scale and so distort the balance of the kings, of the very power governed by the Slates. For this, I took it upon myself to keep her safe at any cost.”

He paused briefly before turning back to Fushimi.

“Even if it is my life – or even yours, Mr. Fushimi, that is the price to save hers.”

The young man frowned, studying the Captain. The bulk of Munakata’s features lay shrouded in the shadow of the passage, though the darkness couldn’t hide the severe look in his eyes.

"The way you're describing her," Fushimi said, taking a cautious step forward. "Who's to say you're any different from the ones you took her from?”

He took another step.

“You talk of keeping her safe, claiming she possesses qualities of great importance to you; but what you're really doing is using her just like everyone else."

"I grant you that assumption," said the Captain, unruffled. "Though I would urge you not to deny what it is I know you saw.”

Even in the dark, Fushimi glimpsed a knowingness presiding in the Captain's face. Against the growing weight of it, he flushed and looked away, calling forth the memory of the Captain with Rei Kiyoka the night before – how the Blue King held her in his arms; the medicine he fed to her so carefully, lovingly; the bond that was so evident between them. How could he possibly forget? It was almost traumatizing. Even the thought of it was enough to prick the little hairs to full attention on the back of his neck.

Sensing this, the Captain took Fushimi by the shoulder, prompting his subordinate to look at him. "Can you really recall my actions earlier today and attest with proper honesty that I intend to use her for my own designs?”

He was looking squarely at Fushimi, his eyes a blatant question, impassioned and – for all Fushimi guessed – sincere.

Beneath the mounting pressure of it all, Fushimi tensed, then let himself relax. The Captain was right. Fushimi had seen something – not just the unabashed actions on the part of the Captain that would forever lay ingrained within his memory, but something still more. It had to do with her, as it always had before, only this time, it was different. This time, he was angry in another way, a way he wasn't used to. Before, anger was just anger; but this... this was something else.

"She risked her life for you," he said at last, facing the Captain coolly. "Meaning she trusts you."

"And you don't, Mr. Fushimi?" Again with the amused expression.

"You know I don't," Fishimi answered. "You're a king – and a particularly shady person even if you weren't one,” he added. “I will never trust you."

Munakata chuckled. "Fair enough.”

"But she obviously sees something different in you,” Fushimi pointed out. “And you just went and rolled with that, didn't you? You didn't even have to force away her freedom like the others did. She gave it to you willingly because somehow she's gotten it in her head that she's safe with you – her 'brother,' as it were.”

Despite his attempts, still he failed to conceal a momentary flinch at the word. It shocked him that he could feel just as flustered in that instant as when Kiyoka had first uttered it. True, it sounded strange to him at the time, but now, saying it himself, it just sounded stupid.

Oppositely, that wasn't how the Captain seemed to take it. Instead he seemed serenely comforted by it.

"That is a title I deeply cherish," he admitted thoughtfully. "Indeed, I have come to regard her as my own flesh and blood. She is one whom I have sworn my very existence to, though it is not her power to which I place my devotion, mind you,” he said to Fushimi’s growing scowl. “Rather, it is that quality I mentioned to you before. That which lies within the heart of Rei Kiyoka is something that cannot be replaced; and when I say that I would give my life for hers, what I mean is that she is a person of immeasurable worth to me. You see, I happen to love her."

This was unexpected.

Caught off-guard, Fushimi’s eyes grew wide.

The Captain, on the other hand, seemed pleased with this response. "Now you understand," he nodded. "Now you can believe that I will do everything in my power to protect her.

“Tell me, Mr. Fushimi,” He said, taking a step to set his hand back gently on Fushimi’s shoulder. “Is what I hold most dear sufficient for you to place your faith in me?"

Fushimi tried to meet his stare, though in the end, he clenched his teeth and glowered at the floor, unable to mask his defeat. "Well, if what they say is true, Captain, you can see everything. With a huff, he slid out of the Captain's grasp. "With a power like that, sometimes I wonder why you even have to ask."

The Captain smiled thoughtfully after him. "No, I suppose not."

“So then,” Fushimi went on, hands in his pockets as he walked. “You took her in, made her your family.” He paused and turned, waiting for the Captain. "Then what? You figured she’d make a good spy, so you shipped her off to work for the Green King? I'm no authority when it comes to heartfelt relationships, Captain, but even I can't help but wonder: after everything she's been through, if you love her so much, what was so important that you would have risked her life — the life you said you’ve devoted your very existence to," he added mockingly. "After seeing the state she was in last night, I have to ask: was it all worth it? This ruse you had to send me after her – it was to prove that Scepter 4 had nothing to do with her, which gave her (and you) more freedom to act. Though don't you think you're taking it a little far?

The Captain, as per usual, said nothing.

"Set all that Imperium-Ignatius-Banks-torture stuff aside for a minute and look at the facts,” Fushimi went on. “You allowed her to hand over the Algorithm to the Green King – whom we all know is a psychopath – knowing full well that he'd use it to expand Jungle's network.

“After that, it wasn't long before he used it to attack Shizume City (with her help, mind you), and we both know he won't stop there. Soon, he's going to try using it to spread supernatural power to anyone and everyone one earth – assuming that’s his ultimate goal. If that's what you're trying to avoid, Captain, then you're doing a pretty lousy job of it. I get that mine is just a limited knowledge," he said, scowling once again in the direction of the Captain, "but it doesn't take a genius to know that what we're supposed to be doing is combatting terrorism, not aiding it."

"You are correct," returned the Blue King, as though Fushimi needed reassurance of the obvious. "However, in the grand scheme of things, my interference and your knowledge would have only hindered matters more than aided them.

“The risk to Miss Rei alone would have been considerably higher had that been the case; and as you now know, I am rather protective of her. Thus, as a result, certain courses of action were necessary – crucial information withheld, misinformation leaked, battles intentionally lost in paving the way toward winning the war."

“And I take it part of winning the war also means finding Nagare's lair?” Fushimi added, at which he flicked a gesture in the air. "I assume that's that we're doing down here.” Then his voice dropped, "Or won't you tell me that?”

He hardly waited for the Blue King to refuse to answer him. With a bitter scoff, he drew a parting step away, then jerked into a halt, the Captain's outstretched hand before him shooting out a warning and so driving him to silence.

A weighted pause enveloped them as the two shared a glance.

"It appears we are to be welcomed momentarily," The Captain whispered, peering out into the cavern that surrounded them. It was as though he saw something – or someone.

Fushimi, likewise, peered in all directions, though seeing nothing.

Then a realization struck him squarely and he shrugged.

"We're bait, aren't we?" He said flatly.

"What gave it away?" Munakata purred, as though the situation were comical.

Fushimi laughed without exuberance, reaching for his saber. “Again with you not telling me things.”

Sheaths unlocked and both blades drew in unison.

"Fushimi – "

" – Munakata – "

" – Ready," both declared, and not a moment too soon.

In uniform, the pair lined back-to-back to form a single force as one large burst of blinding light shot outward from the far side of the cavern, stirring up a wave of putrefaction in the air.

It struck the shield of icy blue emitted from the Captain and Fushimi, the power of their barrier deflecting it and casting it in multiple directions. The light dispersed and faded into smoke.

The cavern lay entrenched inside a whirl of haze replete with dust. Then out of it, a company of masked assailants rushed the pair, weapons drawn.

The entire party launched beams of fiery green – the green of Hisui Nagare – against the solid blue of Reisi Munakata.

Fushimi blocked a portion with a flourish of his sword. Beside him, Munakata did the same.

In a violent crash that rumbled through the cavern, both the green and blue collided in a wall of force, deflecting one another in an equal draw, then settled in a vaporous cloud that lingered at their feet.

The assailants – twelve in number – came before them, fully armed, their faces masked. From their midst, a taller, equally shielded, yet more meticulously armored clansman stepped forward.

Clad solely in black, save the bit of green that glowed along his chest and helm, he seemed more like a ninja – or rather a cosplay ninja, if Fushimi had to guess.

By way of a greeting, the pseudo-ninja reached behind him, gripped a pair of short swords and brandished them before the two with a sleek metallic flourish. His voice, mechanical as that of a machine's, invaded them and echoed in a tremor through the cave.

"Well, well," he drawled in a hum of static. "If it isn't the Blue King and his...pet," he said, craning his neck to scrutinize Fushimi. "We've been expecting you. That is to say: our King, Hisui Nagare, has been expecting you."

Fushimi paused. Uh-oh, he realized, pricked with dread. Rei Kiyoka gave the Captain the coordinates to Nagare's hidden lair – or at least, I'm assuming she did. That's the only reason I can think of as to why she'd be so desperate to see him – because she'd finally managed to find what not even Nagare's highest-ranking operatives know about: the place he hides all his secrets. But what if it was actually a trap? Did he figure out that she was working for the Captain and then fed her fake information in order to lure him here and – "

"Sorry to have kept you waiting," The Captain said with blatant nonchalance.

Fushimi, cast abruptly from his speculations, turned a puzzled eye to him.

"I would have come sooner, though I admit, you’re a tad bit difficult to find," Munakata ventured, surveying the area around them as one appraises something of value. "So this is where Hisui's been hiding.”

Inadvertently, Fushimi gaped at him. He can't be serious, he said uncertainly to himself. Surely he knows this can’t be it…can it?

The ninja clansman appeared to find the Captains declaration just as curious as Fushimi had, though in a much more humorous way.

"Yes, you certainly found us," he said, and burst into a maniacal static giggle.

As he did so, a strange device peeked outward from a slit in his armor, catching Fushimi's attention, and most likely the Captain's too. It was small, intricate, emitting somber crystal rays as though it bore an aura of its own. Fushimi had never seen anything like it before. If he had to guess, it looked fairly important, which automatically meant it probably shouldn't be in the hands of Nagare or his servants. We're going to have to do something about that, Fushimi thought.

"I, in particular, have been rather anxious to meet you," the ninja remarked." After all, you both are worth quite a hefty amount of points."

"’Points?’" Fushimi scowled, lifting an eyebrow.

By way of an answer, the clansman sheathed one of his swords and rose an empty fist into the air, facing the Captain.

From his wrist, a virtual screen appeared. It contained the face of Munakata with a number below it and a computerized voice that said, "Blue King, Reisi Munakata, worth one hundred thousand Jungle points."

"The hell?" Fushimi scowled.

As though asking to be next, ninja shift his stance and direct his fist toward Fushimi. "Blue Clansman and former Homra clansman, Saruhiko Fushimi, worth ten thousand Jungle points." It read much like a roster, to Fushimi's discomfort.

The clansman chuckled wickedly. "A pair of kills this big would raise my ranking all the way to the top." Again with his jilted buzzing chuckle that was more like a screech than a laugh. "Looks like it's time to die now," he said, redrawing his second sword; and in a whirl, the battle was on again.

The Captain and Fushimi darted sideways, feinting on both sides.

Fushimi felled the nearest clansmen with a slew of red-soaked daggers from his sleeve; Munakata with a steady punch that knocked another senseless into a wall.

"Fine, I give up," Fushimi said, feeling the Captain slide up next to him again. "The hell are we really doing here?" He asked, fending off a pair of bolts that shot out through the haze.

The Captain reached through it, snatched a wailing clansmen as he sought to flee, and slammed him to the ground, rendering him unconscious.

"I thought you understood when I agreed we were bait,” he said.

“Yeah, but for what?" Fushimi pressed, his blade locked with another clansmen’s. He grit his teeth against the man, then shot a pulse of icy blue to ward him off.

"What exactly did she tell you last night?" He said, momentarily freed. Motioning to the scene surrounding them, he said, "Clearly this isn't where she wanted you to go.”

"On the contrary. I believe I followed her instructions to the letter,” answered the Captain. With his sword upraised and pointed at the ceiling, he formed another barrier that struck a pair of clansmen as charged him. One flew off into a branching cavern, swallowed by the void; the other crashed against a pillar, shattering the flimsy stones and bringing half the ceiling down on top of him.

Fushimi flashed his saber and a beam of blue shot outward to deflect the falling stones.

“You mean her dire quest was to tell you to go to some nonsense corner of the Underworld to meet with Team Ninja Warrior? I don’t think so. What else did she say?”

Between them, a violent bolt of static green ignited in a blinding crash that parted them from one side of the tunnel to the other.

The ninja leader perched himself atop the rubble, facing them.

"Well, then," he said, placing both hands on his hips. "Looks like I have you all to myself now."

Coughing through the smoke, Fushimi rose from where he landed in th rubble and peered around the place.

The ninja was right. All the other warriors had fled or had since been taken by himself or by the Captain. Only the darkly clad Jungle operative was left.

"I would urge you to drop your weapon and surrender,” came the Captain’s steady challenge not far from him. “As you are outnumbered, submit now and you will be tried fairly according to the laws set forth by the order of Scepter 4 pertaining to supernatural wielders such as yourself. Henceforth you may consider yourself under my protection."

Their opponent bawled a digitized humming of a guffaw. "And give away my power? My freedom? Just like that?” He scoffed. “I think I'll pass."

As quickly as before, he rushed the pair, throwing out one aura blast after another.

One struck Fushimi in the forearm as he made to counter it, sending him to his knees in a dire clutch of his forearm. The wound sizzled like a piece of meat placed over a fire.

The ninja didn't stop, even as Fushimi reached the Captain. Face-to-face, they jostled symbiotically, the ninja keeping pace with Munakata as they struck and blocked and parried like a dance.

Fushimi looked on, momentarily dazzled by the ninja's skill – that is, until he realized: The Captain’s movements are slow, sluggish.

Hold on. In that moment, he understood. The ninja’s not keeping up with him. The Captain's just humoring him. Munakata’s got a plan.

He always had a plan, Fushimi realized. And just like always, he expected – nay, trusted – Fushimi to know it also. Just then, he was providing Fushimi with an opportunity, and Fushimi – for once having realized and moreover understood – bolted at the chance.

He darted upright, drew his hidden daggers, and worked his way through fallen rubble and Jungle clansmen into the darkness.

Meanwhile, the Captain carried on, seemingly enjoying himself as, one-by-one, the ninja darted off pristine attacks.

One-after-another, he deflected them with ease. ”My, you are quite powerful indeed," he said by way of commendation. “I believe you will make a fine adversary one day.”

“Why not today?” Defied the ninja, spinning round to issue an attack.

Once again, the Captain intervened, his saber warding off the blast that shot at him. He countered with a burst of blue that shot against the ninja’s readily produced wall of green.

“Because today you are beaten,” the Captain answered as the aura bursts discharged themselves.

The ninja scoffed. “Oh really? What makes you so sure?"

Confident, he launched another blow, which the Captain fended off, then landed in a threatening pose. His short swords interlocked in a deadly X before the Captain.

He made to charge, then paused, the static of the Scepter 4 coms systems buzzing to life as the voice of Lieutenant Awashima's voice broke the air.

"Awashima reporting in."

The ninja remained motionless, momentarily curious. In a not-so-pleasant manner, he inclined his head, peering at the Captain with a glimmer of a question in the air.

"You are earlier than expected, Ms. Awashima," the Captain answered, maintaining a droll expression on the ninja. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Indeed, Captain,” she answered, her voice echoing off the walls. “We’ve secured the area in question."

"'Area?'" echoed the ninja. "What area?"

The Captain ignored him. "And the prisoners?"

Now the ninja tensed.

"Also secure, Sir," came the woman's prompt reply.

"What is this?" The ninja seethed, crouching defensively.

"Well done, Lieutenant," answered the Captain, rising to full stature with a smile. "It appears our work here is done,” he said, addressing the ninja.

"What is she talking about?!" the ninja demanded in a growing rage. “What have you done?!”

"It's quite simple, really,” explained the Captain. “I understand full well that this is not the hiding place of your king. In fact, I’ve known for quite some time that Hisui does not, in truth, possess just one base of operations, one single location in which to store the entirety of his secrets. That sort of thinking is too base for a man of Hisui's talents.

“On the contrary, I happen to know that he has many hiding places, some of which harbor highly incriminating secrets, and some that host none at all so as to cause a fair amount of confusion for those who happen to be looking for them."

"If you knew that you weren't coming to find Nagare," the ninja countered, "then what are you really doing here? What was that woman up to? Answer me!"

"Yes, I'm just coming to that," soothed the Captain. "You see, it was recently revealed to me that your king has since developed a more advanced serum from Rei Kiyoka's blood in order to replicate her powers – this same Rei Kiyoka with whom I'm sure you are acquainted."

To this, the Captain was met with a obvious growl, though he paid it little heed.

"I am also aware that he has managed to inject this replicated serum into a series of test subjects with promising results – results that have since eliminated the side-effects and subsequent deterioration of the host. The result is a perfectly healthy, unfathomably powerful supernatural wielder.

“Naturally, weapons of so great a threat in the hands of a miscreant such as Hisui Nagare was an option I was not inclined to indulge.

Again, the ninja growled electronically.

“Thus, I set this little trap for you,” he said, spreading his hands in gesture to the place. “One that led you to believe you were setting a trap for me. However, while you and your friends have been dawdling here, entertaining my subordinate and I, Lieutenant Awashima has been in the process of rescuing these test subjects your king has worked so tirelessly to acquire. In other words,” he said, his tone growing devious, “one of his secrets has been found.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” the Ninja roared.

"But of course I would," the Captain answered. “I already have. And I would like to thank you for conducting your part in my plan so beautifully."

The ninja warrior fumed, releasing a venomous vibration through his helmet. "You will die, Blue King. And it will come from my hand!”

He lowered himself into another deadly crouch, his short swords aimed at the Captain's throat. “That will teach you to show some respect for Jungle and its king.”

The ninja lunged forward, then jerked into a pause, instantly stilled by a slim red-aura dagger resting neatly at the base of his helm.

"You wanna run that by me again?" Fushimi asked, appearing behind the ninja.

“You!” His prisoner roared, and sought to grapple free, though Fushimi only tightened his grip further.

"I wouldn't if I were you," he said. “Now, drop them.”

The ninja seemed to be weighing his options.

Finally – and reluctantly – he acquiesced, dropping his swords in a clang that echoed shrilly in the air. His voice frigid as an arctic storm. "You revolting piece of –"

"Come come, let us be amicable, shall we?" the Captain intervened. "After all, you are our guest, now...mister...?"

"Not 'mister,'" zapped the ninja, and with a steady whizzing sound, his helm released itself.

A rush of pixels folded back to reveal a feminine, bespectacled face flanked by wavy blonde locks.

"My name is Hirasaka Douhan," she declared in a normal, non-mechanical voice. "U-rank Jungle operative specializing in covert action. If you know what's good for you, you'll let me go."

"Somehow, I doubt the logic in such a statement," replied the Captain. "Nevertheless, it is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hirasaka. And well done, Mr. Fushimi. Your own covert action proved quite useful to the situation.”

Fushimi ignored the praise. “So,” he said, addressing the Captain. “Even Awashima knew about it, huh? You know, Captain, if anyone's earning points around here, I'd say it was you – for being the worst boss ever.” He clicked his tongue. “What a joke. “So that was what Rei Kiyoka was so desperate to tell you last night, was it?"

"Not quite," came Hirasaka's strained voice beneath his dagger.

Fushimi turned sideways to look at her.

"What do you mean?" He asked, and jerked the blade up closer to her chin.

Hirasaka winced. "I think I may be able to offer you a bit more of the story," she struggled out. "And believe me, you both will be very interested to hear it." She hummed a little chuckle, this one less hypnotic but equally uncalled for.

Fushimi paused, frowning, waiting for the Captain.

"Very well, then.” Munakata waved her to continue.

Fushimi, acknowledging his Captain's order, lowered the blade just far enough for Hirasaka to speak freely while keeping his wounded arm locked tightly around her, pinning one of her arms against her chest.

Hirasaka gave an annoyed jerk against his hold, then relaxed with a sigh. “You’re right in that Nagare was successful in creating a foolproof serum – from the blood of his precious Kiyoka," she purred out in a manner that made Fushimi angry. "She is, after all, the one and only specimen known to have survived the Imperium Procedure. Naturally Nagare took an interest in it.

"Kiyoka came to us," she emphasized. "She said she wanted to use her power to serve Nagare, to serve the world. She said everything he wanted to hear and he was captivated by it. By her.” Hirasaka scoffed incredulously. “So, just like that, he gave her everything!

“And yet, after all that, after everything he did for her, this is how she repays him? By destroying the serum and everything else she helped Nagare to build – all of the research that went into creating a world of supernatural beings without the need for the Slate. Now all of that is gone! And all because of that poisonous Rei Kiyoka!”

She let out a bitter scoff.

“Kiyoka thought she was so clever," the jilted ninja added mischievously. "She thought Nagare hadn't caught on to her yet.”

A wicked grin escaped her.

“But her treachery was too deep to conceal, which is why at her last check-in, when she normally receives her dose of Imperium to stabilize her powers, I may have slipped her one of Nagare's more...potent experiments instead – one to make her go 'Boom!'"

Eyes wide for effect, Hirasaka burst into a frenzy of giggles.

"Tell me, did it work?” She asked against Fushimi’s tightening hold. “How did our dear Kiyoka fare as a result of my little switch?"

"You nearly killed her!" Fushimi hollered loudly in her ear.

Hirasaka flinched against the loud reverberation before bubbling over with laughter once again.

Fushimi was so angry, his hand drew of its own accord to bring the blade back to the base Hirasaka's chin. He felt enraged, wishing to kill her, to kill Nagare, to kill a great many people; yet all the while, a sense of powerless to stop what had already come to pass crept over him, as though he were somehow trapped and had already lost.

This sinking realization ate away at him, and with a meager face, he peered out to the Captain, searching for an equal look of rage. However, the Captain's face belayed all sense of dread, offering a strange degree of confidence instead.

Hirasaka seemed to take this as an answer to her question. ”So, she's still alive – your weakness," she said acidly.

"No matter," she declared, whipping her hair back. A wicked smile crossed her face. “We’ve all a part to play in Hisui’s game. It would seem that her part isn’t over yet."

Fushimi didn’t like he sound of that.

"You will tell Kiyo that, won't you?" Hirasaka cooed. "Tell her: This isn’t over."

"Tell her yourself," Fushimi snapped, yanking her in place again to serve as a reminder of his hold on her. "Your time’s up," he declared. "It's time to go."

"So it is," she said, her helmet morphing back in place.

Instantly, her form began to shrink.

Fushimi gripped her tighter, though it didn’t do a thing.

Hirasaka’s body became warped, phasing itself out of Fushimi's grip until she vanished through the floor with another pixelated laugh. Then she was gone.

Munakata relaxed his weapon, readjusting his glasses with a sigh. "That may prove troublesome."

Fushimi merely stared down at the floor, dagger in hand, angry and bewildered by what just happened. "What did she mean that Kiyoka's part isn't over?"

The Captain sheathed his sword. "It means he isn't finished with her yet."

Fushimi stood up straight, eyeing the Captain with renewed interest. "But he tried to kill her," he specified, wondering in that moment if he meant that as a statement or a question.

"Perhaps," the Captain ventured. "Perhaps not. In the meantime, do you have the device?"

Fushimi blinked, taking in the sudden change of topic. "Uh, yeah," he said, reaching into his pocket. "I've got it right here.”

He placed the small crystalline object in Munakata's palm. In the midst of the battle, he had stolen it from Hirasaka.

"About halfway into it I realized what it is. It's a tracking device, only it doesn't track physical objects. It tracks supernatural energy. We can use it to trace Jungle's online network, figure out what they're planning – hopefully before it's too late and they catch on to us. But how'd you even know I'd think to grab it?"

The Captain turned it over in his hand several times before handing it back to Fushimi. "Because you wouldn't be you if you didn't hijack every piece of technology that caught your eye, Mr. Fushimi. Like a fly to the ointment."

"Flies get trapped," Fushimi pointed out, pocketing the device. "I just use the ointment to attract bigger flies."

The Captain laughed. "Yet another quality I admire about you, Mr. Fushimi. Shall we?" He offered an outstretched hand in a different direction – one Fushimi suspected was the way out.

Their new path led them upstream instead of down, the smell of rancid sewage even greater in the path of the rolling current.

The whole way up, Fushimi sought to stifle back a gnawing tick, until at last, he couldn't keep it hidden any longer.

"From now on, I want to know everything," he said evenly.

He turned to find the Captain staring fixedly at him, no longer with his pleasant features masking secrets, no longer with indifference.

"If you want me as your hidden weapon user,” Fushimi pressed him, “Or if you want me here at all; if you trust me, and if you ever want to hope that one day I might actually trust you, then that’s my price.”

The Captain kept a keen eye on Fushimi, studying him, then popped his brow in something of a shrug. "Very well," he said.

After that, no further word was uttered as they journeyed up and out into the dawning of a bright and early morning in Shizume.

(Chapter VI: Imperium // Chapter VIII: Esprit De Corps)

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