Hey, Kateracks here! Arait is attending to classes and was unable to make this rendezvous, but she asked me to post a gift for all of our lovely readers: A new short story about our favorite trio! Just a little something to tide you over until Missing Kings, for those of you who haven't seen it yet. Okay, it's mostly for us because we're on withdrawal, but you guys are benefiting! So what is the premise of this new and exciting fic? Well, you'll just have to read on to find out. Enjoy!

Fushimi woke with the sensation that something important was supposed to happen that day. He rolled over on the top bed of the otherwise uninhabited bunks and groped for his phone. Without his glasses, he tried to decipher the date and time on the screen. Was it 6:31 or 8:37? If the earlier time were true, he didn't want to trouble with putting on his glasses just to go back to sleep. Through squinted eyes, he watched the minute change and recognized it was 8:38, probably past time to get up.

He dragged himself to his feet, therefore, and got a clear look at the date. January 21. Was that supposed to mean something to him? It was an authorized day off, he recalled, and while that was preferable to working, it didn't clearly explain why he felt that the day had special meaning. While he got dressed in casual clothes, he ran possibilities through his mind. It wasn't the birthday of anyone he knew - not that such a thing would matter to him, but it certainly would nag in the back of his mind like a fact neither remembered nor forgotten. Neither was it a known holiday, Asian, secular, Christian, or otherwise.

Deciding to shrug it off, he headed out of his personal dorm room, intent on making it out of the facility before the grand majority would have woken. As much as being up early was an annoyance, sleeping in on one of these gratuitous days off was always a bad idea. When the break was unrelated to events or festivals, people had the tendency to want to just "hang out." Even worse than being pulled into one of his coworkers' strange hobbies, however, was the likelihood that the captain would hijack one of those activities and try to make his participation enjoyable to them.

On the calendar that hung from the wall in the elaborate corridor, nothing particularly stood out about the 21st of January. It was not circled. No one had written of parties or major changes, so he continued on his way. He didn't actually have any intentions, other than leaving the bureau. Perhaps he would simply wander aimlessly until something caught his attention.

A bitterly cold breeze came up as he passed the gate, exiting the protective tree cover. He pulled the collar of his jacket closer around his neck and kicked at what few dead leaves remained blowing about the sidewalk. Probably he would go someplace indoors.

Breakfast would have to come first. Even if Fushimi was not well known for eating healthy food at regular intervals, he was hungry in the mornings. Taking the bus to a familiar convenience store, he got himself a warm beverage - highly caffeinated, but with less coffee than other ingredients. Also, he chose out something fried and mostly artificial, somewhat like a large egg roll. No eye contact was made with the cashier, and based on that person's appearance, he found himself relieved that plastic wrapper had prevented the unappealing guy from touching his food. Who knew what that guy did with his hands.

After exiting the store, Fushimi took a sip of the drink and then ran his fingers through his hair. Right or left? Two men, maybe 30, walked by in low end suits, clearly on their way to a job in the business district. A quick analysis of the men indicated that they likely held middle management positions in a company that was probably largely dominated by the Gold King's innovative control. That meant, while they sincerely worked to further research and improve their personal careers, they really had no say in anything.

Usually, Fushimi would pass by the likes of them with a scoff and little interest. Their current conversation inclined his ear, however, and he discretely followed after them. They spoke with anticipation of a new technology about to hit the market, of their excitement to implement it in their own lives, and of what they thought it would improve. For a moment, he thought maybe this was leaked information from the top levels of research and development about the next big thing that the Gold King would release. Soon he entirely lost interest.

The technology they were referring to was something he had already been using for quite some time. Breaking away from the main road long before the men would have suspected him of following them, Fushimi headed more towards downtown. That was where most activities were centralized, so logically he was more likely to stumble across something to do in that district.

As far as foods go, the fried thing wasn't particularly impressive. He threw the wrapper away as he crossed a street, grateful to be forever rid of anything that connected him to that disgusting gas station worker. On the other side, a woman fussed over a screaming baby in a stroller while what appeared to be twins in primary school attire fought over something that belonged to both of them. This irritation caused him to deviate from his path immediately.

From there he was simply lead by his own feet while his mind drifted off to other worlds. Perhaps the reason the day felt like it should be important was because society was finally coming to an end. He thought he would like to be able to sense the pending doom of the entire planet. That would allow him liberty to decide who he would certainty not warn. The ordinary aspect of an average weekday lent itself well to surprise destruction. None of these dull, uninteresting people leading their normal lives would see it coming, and that would be their loss when at last the time came. He wouldn't miss them. Hazy clouds in the winter sky didn't seem very ominous at all, though, and he found himself wondering just what could catch them by surprise that day.

Biogenetically altered super diseases seemed plausible. Of course, something like that could only be invented by someone under the Gold King's control. If he wanted to wipe out civilization, he certainly could. Presumably, he would inform Scepter 4 of such plans. In turn, the captain would inform some of his members or at least behave strangely. Maybe that was why they were granted this unusual, inexplicable day off work. Possibly he was expected to have observed this anomaly and lend him assistance.

This led Fushimi to a question he was unable to answer. In a case such as that one, would Munakata's secret message be for Fushimi to help save the world, or help permit its destruction? After all, they did frequently work under the Gold King clandestinely. Quickly his musings turned to how he would destroy the world if given the chance.

It was during this time that his eyes were drawn to a poster on the window of a familiar building. "Sixth Annual SCAT." That was definitely it! The announcement confirmed the date of this tournament was January 21st, as it had been during the preceding five years. Of course he would remember the date of this event. He had been cornered into participating two times already.

SCA was an abbreviation for Shizume City Arcades Tournament. During this tournament, gamers from all over town with homes in all sorts of different centers gathered together in this one arcade to test each other's skills and their own. This arcade was one he formerly had not be unaccustomed to frequenting, thanks to its proximity to a certain bar.

It was not in the red clan's territory, however, which meant nothing prevented him from going in. With a shrug, he opened the door, causing the chime of a tiny bell. Typically audible, the large quantity of people overpowered the sound of the bell, as well as the tolerance of the unsociable young man. He really had no clue why he had even come in here. It was already very crowded.

"Fushimi-kun," a scrawny many called from behind the counter, and already it was too late to leave. This man was rather awkward for a business owner, wearing colors that didn't quite match and a graphic T-shirt with vague references to minute details of obsolete fandoms. His hair was rather unkempt, and he stuttered slightly at the beginning of most of his sentences. He might have wound up living in a basement with science fiction wall-scrolls and comic books, not unlike the creepy gas station employee if inspiration hadn't motivated him to open an arcade. Necessity then forced him into improving basic social skills. Success had nearly rendered him normal.

Fushimi approached him out of obligation, already thinking of a way to excuse himself. After all, the owner of the arcade had occasionally provided intelligent conversation in the past.

"You're late," he continued, already used to the fact that this particular customer never said much. "but I'm glad you're here. Haven't seen you in a few years. You're looking good." As he spoke he wrote in a register, inscribing Fushimi's name and some details relating to his contestancy.

The dark haired boy tried to cut in to protest that he hadn't come to participate in the tournament. Before he could, though, the owner tore out a receipt with a score sheet and a player number.

Handing it to Fushimi, he concluded, "Better get started. Yata-kun already has a few machines under his belt."

The gaping lips that had been prepared to refuse tightened instantly, and Fushimi snatched the papers. If nothing else, he should go in and check it out. As formerly, the games appeared to be from only limited categories - racing, fighting, classic, and interactive. He glanced around to get a quick grasp of the competition. There were gamers of all kinds, from 10 and 11 year old arrogant brats, to possibly perverted old men with bald spots and beer guts who wanted to prove they could still play with the youngsters.

Most of the crowd was made up of teens. They alone varied from the quiet type whose social ineptitude enabled them to master only virtual interactions to the obnoxiously loud who thought of an arcade as just another social gathering. Girls were less common, but a few could be seen sporting unnatural hair colors and animal hoodies or dressed entirely like they'd just come from the Harujuku district.

In this crowd, Fushimi sought out a single face, one with orangish hair on an especially short body - though compared to these preteens and young girls, he might fit in just fine. Even so, that voice could carry and was almost always shouting furiously. In the midst of his search, his eyes caught sight of a flash of green and widened slightly. Hayashi was here too?

Deciding to avoid making contact with either of them for the time being, Fushimi made his way to the far back of the arcade. If there were any games here that required intelligent thought and strategizing, he was more likely to find them in the far corner than right up front with Town Fighter, Zombie Crush, and Greatest Auto Thief. Of course, the tournament was designed to judge the city's best gamer on their accumulated score between all of the machines, so he would eventually have to attempt those also. For now, he figured he should start on something more like a transdimensional, psychological maze. That particular game would make Misaki think so hard that he would often get dizzy and go sit down.

Yata was in particularly high spirits that day. He had hardly slept at all the night before in his excitement, yet he didn't seem in the slightest bit drowsy. Since the recent death of his friends, there had been many sleepless nights, and he rarely woke up from them in a fair mood. It had been well over a month since the event, and everyone was glad to see him pulling together. Then again, January 21st was always a big day for him. It got his blood pumping. The spirit of competition always did. For that reason, none of them were surprised to see him ready to take on the world.

He had already been talking about the tournament for a week.

Nothing was allowed to get in his way. Be it at the bar or on the congested city streets, no obstacle proved big enough to delay the skater for more than a brief moment. He reached the arcade in record time. This had been like a second home to him, where he grew up at. Whether his "first home" had been with his parents, the apartment that he shared with Fushimi once, or the bar HOMRA, this arcade had consistently been there to back him up through good and bad times. It was where he hung out with friends, hid from storms (both literal and figurative), and blew off steam. He had a fondness in his heart for this place, something that nothing else could compare to.

It was definitely full of memories. There Anna had first been exposed to the world of gaming, and they had blown nearly every yen they possessed to allow her as many opportunities as possible to blast those zombies to bits (even though that money had been reserved especially for buying her new clothes). He had earned more than one scar in scuffles there from people who had pissed him off - whether it be from insults to his skill, him personally, or Homra. Sometimes he felt as if he could lay claim to the place like his territory, as if he owned it. He basically did. Most of the high scores belonged to him, after all. Him and Hayashi.

A bittersweet thought of her actually made him hesitate at the door to the arcade. What if the Green Girl were there? Out of all the conflicting emotions he could possibly feel for that person, what came foremost to mind were the first three, humiliating encounters, one of which had been here. This place that was his personal home also belonged to her. She was the only other person with her name among the top high scores, a fact that she had perfectly clear when the crowd cheered her name during a dance show down.

What did he care? Maybe she had some good scores, but his were higher. Whatever rank was no longer his, he would reclaim. That would settle it. He didn't give a damn who else participated in this tournament. He was the reigning champion. This was his arcade; he had the home court advantage. He wasn't going to leave with anything less than first place.

Having restored courage to his heart, he flung the door open with such authority that the dozen, early rising contestants were brought to silence for a brief moment. One might have easily assumed the police were there to bust an illegal drug trade, but it was just Yata fired up.

Behind the counter, the arcade owner tore out a sheet of paper for the newly arrived gamer. It was already completely filled out as if the man had never once doubted Yata would certainly come for this event. Neither did the boy require any of the contest instructions that might be provided for a first-timer, outlining the way a winner was chosen, how long the tournament would last, and a few obvious rules of sportsmanlike behavior.

Instead, the owner simply handed Yata the card with the polite wish, "Good gaming, Yata-kun."

In return, Yata threw his fist in the air and declared, "All right! Let's start this!"

He made his way first to the zombie game for no particular reason. All of them were games he loved that he could conquer with no problem. Zombies, though, was right in front of him, the machine was unoccupied, and he found it easy. Sliding his card into the machine, he lifted the plastic gun to his face and watched the timer countdown, "3, 2, 1...Go."

"This one's for Anna!" Making a statement that was somewhat strange while he began shooting undead humans with all his heart drew a few suspicious looks from gamers around Yata because: who dedicates such a bloody game to a girl?

Per his expectations, he cleared the game having killed every zombie instance to appear and not a single baby stroller that unexpectedly made its way across the screen. Satisfied with his perfect score, he reclaimed his card to move on to the next game. The card, which was used to keep a cumulative score of all the games each participant played during the tournament also sent an automated update to the leader board hanging from the back wall. Yata took a moment to glance up at it and noticed he was already in the tenth place position, after only a single game. Of course, that would be difficult to maintain once more contestants showed up.

Yata didn't think this way, though. Totally vamped, he rushed on ahead knowing with only another game or two he could quickly be in the top three.

"Damnit!" rang out in the corridors of the Green Clan's base on an otherwise relatively calm January 21st. The inhabitants parted and hugged the walls of the dorm hallway to make room as a mess of green and grey came boiling out of one of the bedrooms. Tripping over large sweats that had fallen too low in sleep and snatching up dropped socks, the possibly-female-bed-monster dashed down the hall shouting warnings of its approach.

"Excuse me! Pardon me! Look out! Late girl coming through! Move it, people!"

One pair did not hit the deck as the presence neared, though, so the girl went around them via a well-placed tic tac along the wall. The command "Gonna be late! Get the lead out, Kazuki!" echoed in her wake. The male with light brown hair smiled down at the new recruit at his side.

"That blur of green was Hayashi, Azami," he said.

The girl looked after where the mentioned blur went as a door slammed shut in that direction. "What's she late for? Some meeting we need to get to or something?" she inquired.

"Nah," Kazuki replied. "It's the city-wide arcade tournament today. We go every year. Usually she's up before the sun rises and ready to go, but I knew she was gonna have a late night of picking up chicks so what she doesn't know is I set her clock ahead half an hour. She's not as late as she thinks she is."

The recruit looked a little disturbed. "She was picking up chicks?"

Kazuki smiled. "Code for: she was out late on extra missions and kissing up."

"You think you need to use code in your own clan?" she asked.

He laughed and slapped her on the shoulder which earned him a glare that went unnoticed. "You've been missing all kinds of excitement in your life! Lucky for you, you joined the Green Clan and we have precisely the cure for that. Come on. We have just enough time for me to conclude my portion of the tour and hand you off to Shun before I have to leave."

The girl tuned out his explanation of the dorms and looked over her shoulder to where Azami had disappeared. With a curl in her lip, she uttered, "Freak."

It wasn't the showering part that took so long, but rather the doing of the hair. She considered very seriously just pulling it up in a ponytail and letting it go, but if she won today, she wanted to look good in the photos. Sometimes her insistence to look put together each did occasionally lean a little more toward the vanity side of things than her need to be ready so as to run to someone's aid at the first call for help (even though that was still very important and close to her heart). She cut as many corners as she could, but it still consumed more time than she would have liked.

She met Kazuki outside the warehouse and together they took off at a dead run down the street. Kazuki was pretty quick on his feet, probably from his seemingly endless supply of energy. Likely, that was why he and Shun were most often paired with Azami since they were among the few who could keep up. Even so, neither of them could parkour and so on days such as these she tried to limit herself to the ground and take less crowded routes. They cut their time in half, even with the pit stop the male made.

"Hey Azami, we're gonna pull over for a second!" he called from a few paces back.

She hit the brakes and he ran past her, making a sharp turn into a McDoodle's parking lot and around to the drive thru window.

"What are—"

"You didn't eat breakfast," he simply stated.

"That's okay—"

"It's not okay. You gotta be at the top of your game. We're competing against the best nerds from all over the city and we gotta show them that they're still the biggest losers around!"

With that, he knocked on the glass and a startled crew member slid it open, giving him an irritated look.

"Dude, go around to the door. This is a drive thru," the younger boy inside directed.

Kazuki gave him a cheesy grin. "No way, man! We're in a hurry!"

"I can't serve you until you go around, sir."

"Sir?" Kazuki was aghast and gave the pimple-faced teen a dirty look. "Do I look old to you? Don't make me take my business elsewhere, young man. Could result in a bad review for you."

The younger boy heaved a resigned sigh. "What'll you have?"

Despite the earlier insult, Kazuki's good nature continued to shine through. "One parfait, please!"

Azami laughed as the window slid shut, but still insisted, "We don't have time for this."

Her partner spun her around then and pointed at the LED sign of a bank across the street. Azami read the time, blinked, looked again. Sure enough, she was half an hour earlier than she thought she was.

"We can catch up. They can't even touch us anyway. We're that good," the male reassured her as the crew member returned with his order.

Azami grinned. "Have I ever told you how awesome you are?"

Putting the parfait in one of her hands and a spoon in the other, Kazuki slung his arm around her shoulders and urged her into a comfortable walk. "Yes, but go ahead. I'll listen."

"You, Nakahara, Kazuki, are awesome. You always watch my back and you take good care of me."

"Somebody's gotta or you'll bleed yourself dry, imouto-san."

The arcade was packed by the time they reached the door. Azami took a second there to throw the plastic cup that had contained her breakfast in the trashcan by the entrance, but before they even opened it she could hear the ruckus of heated competition inside. They couldn't even hear the cheerful tinkling of the bell as they entered. They made their way to the back counter to get their cards, but the manager wasn't present. Luckily they didn't have to search too far because as they began to wander and scan the crowd, they met him coming out of a back room holding a box of fuses.

"Nakahara-san! Hayashi-san!" he greeted them.

"You have a blowout?" Kazuki joked, gesturing to the objects in his hand.

"Luckily not up here yet," the manager said and tapped his temple. He headed back toward the desk and retrieved their cards. "I was afraid you wouldn't come."

"Wouldn't miss it," Azami said.

With an approving smile, the man held up the fuses. "Well, I better go get this running for you. You've got some catching up to do, you know."

Kazuki saluted. "We're on it."

It was decided that the pair would start out on a team game to get warmed up. Usually they would play on a team until all applicable games had been tried and then split. However, being that they did indeed have a lot to catch up on and those types of games split the cumulative points in half, they saved most of them for later.

They chose a racing game where you could choose to be a watercraft of some kind and race on tracks that incorporated waterway and dry land aspects. Stay out of the water too long, though, and your health would be depleted. It was a strange mix of risk taking and strategy in which they competed against 18 other CPU's divided into 9 teams. Their usual approach against these was to have one person be a smaller, faster vehicle while the other drove a large one for defense. Kazuki typically chose the latter option so he could enjoy smashing things. Azami appreciated letting him have her back so she could just concentrate on going as fast as she wanted. She was the biggest risk-taker, after all.

"Agh!" she shouted as someone rammed her and she lost both health and points.

"What happened?" her partner asked as he passed her by.

"Snuff that blue jet ski!"

"On it!"

As they passed through a village, Kazuki caught up to the offending CPU and boxed it in so that it smeared its life down the side of a cottage until it met its demise in a water wheel. Azami passed the wreckage and sped into first once more.

"You alright? You're engine is smoking," she observed.

"I'm low but I'll be alright. That guy won't be coming back for revenge either."

Azami scanned her surroundings and spied a familiar shortcut. "You gotta make it to the next turn into the forest. If you drive up the hill there's HP at the top. It's dry land, though, so go slow or you'll burn up."

He followed her directions and warned from the lookout point, "Bogies on your six."

She banked hard left and shoved one boat up onto dry land, eating some of her life in the process. Kazuki ramped off the hill and crashed into the other, also putting that one out of commission. Not far from the finish line now, they finished first and second.

Kazuki slapped her a high-five. "Nice job, partner! We're gonna finish strong today just like that!" He peered around her and, if possible, his face brightened even more. "Dino-Land Adventure is open!"

"What are you, in middle school?" she jabbed as he rushed to take his turn.

He shot her a final parting grin. "Today I am! I'll catch up with you later!"

Shaking her head, she looked around for the next open console and frowned at the option. Zombies. They still had that game. She wasn't much of a fan anymore simple because she had burned herself out on it. Or that's what she told herself. In reality, she really wasn't a fan of the rifle. If it had been the game's avatar holding it, it wouldn't have been so bad, but the model the gamer was supposed to handle looking like the real deal. She had only played it in the beginning of its fame to make a couple hot-headed teenage boys shut up about girls not being able to rock shooting games. Then she kept playing after that to keep the high score until the game lost its initial popularity.

On the other hand, though, she knew fully well that a player could rack up serious points if they harvested hoards of the undead. Many of the competitors would have started out with that game to get a jump on the day. She decided to suffer through it one more time.

As soon as the card was inserted and the screen darkened into a nighttime cutscene, her body's muscle memory took over. She remembered each corner to come around shooting, which ditch to keep a close eye on, and which buildings were a living corpse gold mine. In no time at all, she had cleared the round and the end screen exploded into stars that proclaimed "NEW HIGH SCORE!"

She muttered to herself, "I still got it."

The leaderboard appeared and scrolled up to the top where the cursor appeared in the first spot and bumped that placeman (AKA the one and only Yatagarasu) into second. She typed her name in all caps and then smiled smugly as she moved on to her next victim. She could almost hear him shouting in frustration.

"ORRYAA!"

Azami stopped in her tracks. It wasn't her imagination; he was here. There was no mistaking that voice. She had spent so much time arguing with it, hearing it babble out exaggerated stories, kinda missing it…

She shook her head. Her day had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.

And that's it for Part 1! Stay tuned for the next installment to see what kind of trouble these three get into this time!