Hello dear readers :) I proudly present to you a Sarumi story~! I actually wrote this one a while ago but wasn't sure whether to upload it, but I've decided to just do so. Hope you like it~

Disclaimer: I don't own K. If I did, Sarumi, Kuroshiro, and Mikorei would be canon, and we'd be getting a season 2 AND a movie. ... And Izumo would get more screen-time.

A Chance Encounter

Darkness begins to close in over the forest as Saruhiko Fushimi makes his way among the trees with a flashlight in his left hand. The people who were meant to be with him managed to lose first the illegal weapon they're supposed to be bringing to the Scepter-4 headquarters, then Fushimi himself. He assumes that by now, they've given up on waiting for him. They might even be back, reporting the details of their failures to Captain Munakata Reisi. Or rather, blaming it all on me. Fushimi clicks his tongue in annoyance; despite knowing that Reisi won't buy it if the grunts should blame his third-in-command, it frustrates Fushimi to think that he'll have to waste his time setting their stories straight.

It's been less than an hour since the sun set, but the level of visibility has decreased tenfold. Just how hard can it be to find a damn handgun? Fushimi wonders to himself, illuminating a new section of the trail and scanning it for the lost item. He sighs. Contrary to what certain skateboarding individuals (cough, cough) might say, Fushimi is actually rather intelligent, so the thought that none of his mental capacity is being put to good use actually bothers him. If chasing, fighting, and stalking Misaki aren't options... Then they should at least have me do something halfway useful with my time. Any idiot could be searching this forest instead of me. Another ten minutes pass without any luck in finding the weapon. By this point, Fushimi has begun to tire of the tedious task.

That's when a distant noise captures his attention. He straightens up, holding completely still while straining his ears to listen for further sounds. Sure enough, a heartbeat or two later, another echo resounds; it seems to be some kind of voice. No... Two voices. And they're having an argument. Stealthily following the source of the sound, Fushimi eventually manages to discern that the two speakers are male; their words become clearer as he gets closer.

"Calm down! You're gonna wake the dead if you keep yelling like that," the first voice whispers forcefully. Fushimi raises his eyebrows slightly, quickly placing its owner as Kamamoto. What's a member of HOMRA doing here? This forest isn't part of their territory...

"Will you shut the fuck up?" snaps the other in reply. At the sound of this voice, Fushimi's heartbeat quickens; it's Misaki! Silently he approaches his beloved ex-best friend.

"But Yata-chan, there could still be Blues around, and you know how-" the blond man tries to reason before being cut off by his hotheaded companion.

"I thought I told you to shut it, dumbass! I know what I'm doing, and besides, if those retards try to mess with us, we'll just take 'em out!" Yata punches an imaginary target for emphasis. The usual insane grin makes its way onto Fushimi's face; the slate-haired man feels his blood surging at an increased pace at the thought of another one-on-one battle with his ever-incredible Misaki. But how to get him alone...?

An idea strikes Fushimi suddenly. He ensures that he's still far enough from the duo not to physically harm them (after all, where would the joy be in accidentally killing random HOMRA members, let alone Misaki? No, Fushimi insists on either protecting the redhead or ending his life personally; no others may have his blood upon their hands) before drawing his sword. Recalling his Captain's lecture to the newer recruits of Scepter-4, his lips - almost noiselessly - form the syllables that indicate his readiness for battle. With one well-aimed slash Fushimi sends a large tree hurtling toward the ground in the direction opposite to the one the Red Clan members are walking in. Kamamoto turns and makes to head to the source of the crash, and in that moment, Fushimi darts through the trees, heading in the same direction as the trail. He makes sure to remain out of sight, capturing their attention solely through the rustling of bushes his movements cause.

"Yata! You go that way," the large man points to where Fushimi is, "and I'll find out what that noise was!" Yata nods and heads off. Before he's gone 10 paces, Fushimi steps into his way, grin firmly in place.

"What a surprise, Misaki~ Who would've thought I'd find you here?" A rare note of enthusiasm is present in his voice.

"The hell, damn monkey?!" It appears Yata isn't quite as pleased about the encounter.

"Whatever might you be doing here~?" questions the taller of the two, not letting on that he does actually care what kind of response he gets.

"I don't see how that's any of your fucking business," Yata sneers in reply. "Now get out of my damn way!"

"Oh but Misaki~"

"And I thought I told you to stop calling me that!" Fushimi's grin widens. I simply love the way he falls for the same thing over and over... He's only encouraging me, Fushimi notes happily.

"..." Not wanting to hear Fushimi sing-song his name like he usually does, the redhead cuts him off with an angry snarl. Before Fushimi can count to three, Yata is engulfed in his flaming aura, glaring daggers at the taller.

"So you want to fight again... Mi~sa~ki~!" chants Fushimi, never missing the chance to use the other's hatred of the name against him. The bluette savors the vanguard's irritation.

"Fucking monkey!" With that, the battle begins. Blue and red flames shoot in all possible directions, ricocheting off the ground and flying into the thicket of trees. Before long, the pair forget everything else around them, concentrating all their energy on trying to outdo each other. Fushimi's showing off and trying to get the redhead's attention; Yata doesn't notice. Yata's being dangerous and aggressive, delivering blows that could kill; Fushimi doesn't care. Everything is as usual.

Soon, there comes a moment when Yata misjudges the force with which Fushimi shoots a(n ironically) red flame his way, slamming into a tree back-first. He stands still a moment to catch his breath after having it knocked out of him. Then there's Fushimi.

The quick-witted third-in-command of Scepter-4 has been waiting for this opportunity for too long to simply pass it up. He wastes no time closing in on Yata, quickly pinning the shorter to the tree by the wrists.

For a moment, time freezes as Yata raises his head to initiate a not-uncommon staring contest. Fushimi gazes first warily, then affectionately into the other's enticing eyes; Yata first glares, then simply looks confused. Fushimi takes a chance, closing the gap between them. Their lips lock as he slides his eyes shut.

The only logical thought on Yata's mind would have to be What the hell is going on...?

He doesn't know what to do. On a personal level, he used to be very, very close with Saruhiko; the man had officially been his best friend, but unofficially something more, something just waiting to happen. Once he deserted HOMRA, Yata found himself growing steadily angrier with his ex-best friend, but in his memories, "Saruhiko" remained a person he could never lose or let go of. Secretly Yata had spent many nights pretending (wishing) he'd wake up to find that it had all been nothing but an awful nightmare or a prank Saru and the others had played on him. Sometimes he still does. In that sense he would gladly kiss back. However, the fact remains that they're enemies now, thanks to Fushimi's betrayal.

At that moment a memory replays itself in Yata's mind.

Mikoto sat scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He avoided Yata's gaze as he attempted to explain what he meant by "dancing with the enemy".

"You see, well, when there's an enemy... You dance with them. No you don't. See? It's just like that. Basically, it means that you're close to dancing with someone, but you're not, because that person... No, that's wrong. Wait. Um... You talk to them. You love them. You hate them? You don't hate them, that's wrong, what the hell... Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that it's not literal. Like... You're not actually dancing. Yes. I mean, no. ... Let me give you an example: me and Munakata. We're supposed to be enemies, and we are, but we're not, and yet we are. It's simple really. So I'm dancing with the... What was it? Right. Reisi. ... Wait, what the hell am I talking about?"

All these thoughts shoot through his head within the span of 3 seconds.

In that moment, he decides that Mikoto's explanations are no help at all, so Yata goes by what his gut tells him and kisses Fushimi right back.

Later, when Kamamoto comes searching for Yata, he finds the signature black beanie discarded near Yata's red sweater, along with... Is that a Scepter-4 jacket? And those... Those are Yata's pants. Next to another, longer, neater pair of pants... Huh?

Hehehehe... I made an implication... :3

A small note of clarification I should probably add is why Suoh's explanatory skills are like they are. It's simple really; my sister and I came up with random headcanons one day, and we decided the one person who can't explain things for their life would be Mikoto. Yeah...

I hope you enjoyed it, leave a review if you feel like it, but I don't want flames. I just don't.

Peace~