Characters: FUSHIMI Saruhiko, MUNAKATA Reishi, AWASHIMA Seri, Swords, Intel & (later) Special Ops Squad. Scepter 4-centric

Summary and A/N:

Fushimi's new life at Scepter 4 after the events from K - Lost Small World. The story follows Fushimi as he works (and sulks) his way up the social ladder at the Intelligence Division and later to the Special Operations Squad. Rated T for mild swearing and possibly (later) implications & wordplay on sex. Scepter 4-centric. Canon compliant. Novel and manga tie-ins & fillers aplenty. Munakata/Fushimi/Awashima/Scepter 4 all

Disclaimer: K belongs to GoRA. I don't own the characters, or their names, or plot recap of any kind you recognise from K SIDE:BLUE, K R:B, Lost Small World, Memory or Red, or Days of Blue, although events from these novels & manga will be mentioned as this story progresses. I do, however, own the plot that fills in the gaps between events from the above mentioned canon. (To answer a reader's question, I won't do tie-ins to Case Files of Blue because its plot is not intertwined with the rest of canon and I'm not 100% sure what its time setting is)


CHAPTER I

The Boarding School

'… Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.'
(Alfred Lord Tennyson's The Eagle)

Fushimi stared at the interior of the room, his hand sliding down the doorknob to his side and his mouth held slightly askew, a tsk pending at his lips.

Granted, he had not thought too much about it when Munakata mentioned that joining Scepter 4 means living in dormitories. For Heaven's sake Scepter 4 is an organisation, not a boarding school. And who in his right mind would choose to live in a boarding house just yards from the building where they go to work every morning? Fushimi had guessed that people from the Blue Clan were rather enclosed, but this was too much, almost below the belt.

He was staring at two people, young men in their early or mid twenties by the looks of it, sitting cross-legged on the floor facing each other, as if trying to stare each other into submission. Between the two men lay a chessboard. Apparently they were in the heat of a contest or something. But the sound Fushimi made when opening the door had distracted them. Fushimi blinked, and realised post-blinking that the two men had rested their eyes on him. Tsk.

One of them began, sounding uncertain. 'Who are you?'

A detached analytical part of Fushimi's brain knew these men were not to blame. He was new, after all; he looked no older than his age, and he was not wearing a blue uniform. He could even pass as the child of some older clerk he just caught a glimpse of outside the Records Office. But knowing all these did not mean he was okay with whatever these men had to say in his presence.

'I'm Fushimi,' he said simply, and could not be bothered apologising about having mistaken the two men's room number for his own, which was down the other end of the corridor, seemingly a world apart.

The man looked hard at him. Fushimi noticed his hair was brushed back from his forehead in a peculiar way and tied to a knot at the back; there were no lines in his face, but he had the air of someone much more mature than his chess mate.

'Oh, hello. I'm Kamo.'

'I'm Hidaka,' the chess mate chimed in with a grin. 'Are you the pizza delivery boy? I ordered a large pepperoni just then.'

With Kamo frowning and Hidaka grinning at him, Fushimi felt trapped, as if something heavy was pressing down on him. He turned without a word and walked down the corridor, hearing the door shut behind him with a bang. What these men make of him was not his concern, not the slightest bit. He may have to live with these people in the same goddamned building and on the same goddamned floor, but it was Scepter 4 he joined, not these men. He did not have to pretend to be on amiable terms with them, and did not want to. Christ, what was that thing behind them, a bunk bed? Do they share the same room? Even boarding schools allocate single rooms; this is worse than a boarding school.

Fushimi found his own room at the end of the corridor. On the door was a name plate with no name written on it. He pushed the door open. The room was empty and had the air of long term disuse, but the floor was clean, as was what bare furniture it contained: a bunk bed, a writing desk, and a longish wardrobe to the side. Surprisingly the room smelt of fresh air, as if someone had just opened the window long enough to allow plenty of circulation. And it did not look like another occupant was living here.

Perhaps you are allowed to have a room all to yourself until the Captain hires another new guy. Fushimi thought wearily, and walked in, closing the door behind him. If anything, the room reminded him almost painfully of his and Yata's old flat. But with him gone, Yata would be living there all by himself now; or had he already moved out as well? The flat was rather ramshackly to begin with; he wondered how they had managed to live there for two whole years.

But Yata was irrelevant; it had to be like this ever since he caught up with Fushimi in that little lane and watched Fushimi burn off the Homra insignia on his collarbone. Yata had been shocked, had declared Fushimi a traitor, and had grown so furious he almost melted the air with the fire aura around his entire body. The power of the Red Clan symbolises destruction, but Fushimi knew only too well that he did not part with Yata because of that.

Fushimi kicked off his shoes and flopped on the lower bunk, feeling drained. Munakata had been wrong when he suggested Fushimi take minimum amount of luggage with him; he had taken nothing, because there was nothing he wanted to take from the old flat. And now lying on his back with eyes staring up at the belly of the top bunk, Fushimi grimaced at the thought of decorating this room and trying to make it his own. He disliked imposing his personality on inanimate objects; it was such a stupid, childish thing, decorating your own room. It's just like dogs marking their territories, only slightly more civilised.

He jerked up at the sound of someone knocking on the door, heart pounding.

'Are you in there, Fushimi?'

Fushimi recognised the voice, and remained still. The voice seemed to have sensed him, and subsided. The door opened, revealing the Blue King, clad in his immaculate uniform. Fushimi's eyes followed Munakata from the door to the bedside like a wounded animal regarding the hand that came in from outside the cage, unsure whether it was going to strike him or stroke him.

Munakata stopped by the bedside and looked down at Fushimi. As usual, Fushimi caught the polite, almost perfunctory smile, and felt the stir of annoyance.

'I didn't say I was here, did I?'

'No indeed,' agreed Munakata rather serenely. 'What do you think of your room?'

Fushimi glanced around. What did he think of it? He would not admit it was better than his old flat, because it should not be.

'… it doesn't matter. One place is just as good or bad as the next.'

He did want to ask Munakata about having to share the room with someone, though, but dreaded hearing the answer he was secretly anticipating. So he said nothing, and settled to fixing his eyes on a tiny shard of light on Munakata's left boot. Can you actually polish boots till they shine?

'Hmm, if that is what you think,' came Munakata's voice from above, sounding as unfazed as usual. 'But this will be your very own room for as long as you serve in Scepter 4. Will you not try and make yourself comfortable?'

Fushimi looked up, surprised. His very own room?

'I thought it was a share room?'

'I said nothing of the kind. You must have visited other rooms and are now making assumptions, Fushimi. Allow me to ask you this: do you actually want a share room?'

'No, 'course not.'

'Then it will not be a share room to you,' Munakata's tone was pleasant, and so matter-of-fact he might have been talking about the weather. 'Come to my office when you are ready. There are a few things we need to discuss before your Installation Ceremony.'

Fushimi got to his feet without saying anything. Ever since their first encounter, he knew almost instinctively that Munakata was not the sort to demand verbal replies when actions alone would suffice. Munakata glanced at him with a soft smile, and turned.

'You are quite organised, Fushimi.'

To which Fushimi gave a noncommittal shrug and trailed after Munakata.

Fushimi loathed ceremonies, and most of all the brouhaha that heralds them. What does this Installation Ceremony entail? Given the kind of organisation that Scepter 4 is famous (or rather infamous) for, it has to be long and pompous. What was the Test at Homra like again? It had been called the Test simply because the Red King hated long and pompous words. You pass the Test if grabbing the King's hand doesn't burn you to a crisp, and you fail if… well, you wouldn't be here to tell the story if you failed.

And the Captain's Office was pomposity at its most irritating. Had it seen better days when some other official resided here, Fushimi had no idea. Not that he cared much, either. Fushimi closed the door behind him, feeling the heavy weight of the panel pressing against his palm. Behind the mahogany desk stood a chair that looked disturbingly like a throne, and next to the desk stood a tall blond female in starched navy blue uniform designed with noticeable difference to the men's. Fushimi put both hands back in his trouser pockets and followed Munakata, bracing himself for having to greet another person. And an important one, by the looks of it.

'Sir,' the blond female saluted Munakata as he approached her with Fushimi tagging along. The way she held herself reminded Fushimi that Scepter 4 was, after all, part police and part military.

Munakata stepped aside to reveal Fushimi, 'This is FUSHIMI Saruhiko, of the Intelligence Division. Fushimi, this is Lieutenant AWASHIMA Seri.'

The Lieutenant, huh. Fushimi glanced up and found Awashima looking at him, almost sizing him up.

'So you are the one the Captain hired from the Red Clan?'

As if you needed confirmation from me when your Captain had told you that. 'Yes.'

'Ms Awashima, I need to talk to Fushimi about the upcoming Installation Ceremony. If you will excuse us.'

Awashima looked like she wanted to expand on the subject of Fushimi as a former Red Clansman, but dropped the idea at Munakata's words.

'Of course. Pardon my intrusion, sir. Please excuse me.'

Fushimi turned to let Awashima pass, to which she paused and regarded him with the same impassive yet measuring look.

'Come to the meeting room when you are finished here. I will be waiting.'

Tsk, another one-to-one on the horizon.

Munakata did not resume until Awashima had closed the door and her footsteps faded away on the other side. 'What do you think of Lieutenant Awashima, Fushimi?'

'No idea. If anything she's rather like you.'

Munakata smiled at the repartee, 'She brought this for you. Come.'

Fushimi complied, and saw a sabre on Munakata's desk. Under the light streaming in from the window, the sheath and handle glistened with polish. It was obviously new, and did not look even slightly different from the sabre Fushimi had seen fastened on Munakata or Awashima's coat.

'So everyone in Scepter 4 uses this. I see.'

'The power of the Blue is encased in the sabre. To unsheathe it is to unleash the Blue Aura. Every member of Sceptre 4 practises swordsmanship to better utilise their power. This will be yours after the Installation.'

'You mean like in kendo, but fancier.'

'If you prefer it that way,' there was a note of concession in Munakata's voice, and something else. Something Fushimi had trouble deciphering.

'Hmm, whatever.'

'My, my, I thought you would have perhaps shown some enthusiasm at that. Did you know that everyone in Scepter 4 names their own sabre?'

Fushimi looked up into Munakata's face. Now he's off again. With that voice, even titbits sound like matters of tremendous importance. Talk of pomposity at its finest and most irritating, tsk.

'I don't see the point in naming a weapon.'

'Hmm, that is unfortunate. I have thought of a rather nice name for yours, in case you could not. What do you think of the name "Subaru"?'

'It's not much for me to say. I don't care about names. A weapon is a weapon. Period.'

Even as he spoke, Fushimi doubted Munakata was actually listening. The Blue King was looking at the sabre on the desk as though looking at something alive and asleep.

'It seems that you do not understand the idea behind naming. Put it this way, you believe that a sabre is a sabre. How would you refer to your sabre when you are talking to another person about it? Presumably just "my sabre" or "it", is it? With a name, no matter where you are or whom you are talking to, Subaru is your sabre, and vice versa. Subaru would not be called anything else, and would not exist as anything else.'

Fushimi couldn't help but suspect Munakata was just talking for the sake of talking, 'What are you driving at?'

Munakata looked him straight in the eye, 'For me, to name something is to bring it into existential significance, to acknowledge the object in question as more than just something. When you name your sabre Subaru, it becomes more than just your weapon. There is a connection forged between the name giver and the named. It is a baptism of sorts.'

A tiny part of Fushimi's brain still sneered at the way Munakata philosophised, but his thoughts had drifted away. Yata had called him a traitor; he had been branded a traitor by the one and only person that was his friend. Had been his friend. If what Munakata said was true, he, Fushimi, would exist as a traitor as long as Yata considered him one. And that would probably be for the rest of his life. But they also called one another by their first names even after the fallout; they were still unique to one another in that regard. Surely being the only person to call someone by their first name meant something, even if that something was buried beneath intangible thoughts and desires and the pain of flame against flesh, of burning away the insignia that once whispered something akin to belonging.

'I hope someday you will come to understand that, and Subaru.'

At the last word, Fushimi's eyes fell on the sabre. It didn't matter whether he would or would not understand it; Munakata had first mentioned the name seconds before, and yet Fushimi's brain had linked the name to the thing itself, had grown so used to the idea his eyes simply sought it out on reflex. So much for the power of naming something, huh.

Fushimi pushed open the door to the meeting room and wished it had finished already, only to find Lieutenant Awashima waiting at the table just as she had said she would. Why can't she go back to work? Do lieutenants work at all?

'How did it go, Fushimi?'

At least she didn't ask what he thought of the Captain. Realising he even felt a slight twinge of relief about it, Fushimi smiled wryly and allowed his body to unwind a bit.

The next moment, Awashima seemed to have noticed the slightest droop in the way Fushimi stood in front of her, and prompted with a frown. 'So?'

'Just what you'd expect from the Captain, I guess.'

'And what is that supposed to mean?'

'Means no surprises. The Captain showed me Su- my sabre, and told me a few things and whatnot about the Installation, is all.'

'Is that so,' Awashima sounded satisfied, though the look she gave Fushimi suggested otherwise. 'I have been looking at your files. Now that you are here, I'd like to go through a few things with you, just as a procedure of confirmation.'

'As you wish.'

Awashima frowned again: the sarcasm did not escape her notice. Few things did, come to think of it.

'Your name is FUSHIMI Saruhiko?'

'Yes.'

'Former affiliation: Team Homra, the Red Clan?'

'Yes.' Tsk.

'Initiation into Scepter 4: personal recommendation by Captain Munakata?'

'Like I'd know that. Why don't you ask him yourself?'

Awashima gave him a stern look. Fushimi was very much aware that his school-boyish shirt, jumper and jeans could not disguise the way he held himself in front of her: she probably saw him as a brat, a hooligan from Homra, standing there resting most of his weight on one leg and looking at people from the corner of his eyes as if everyone owed him big time.

'I most certainly will ask the Captain. Thank you very much for reminding me.'

Fushimi was not unfazed by the bite of sarcasm in her voice. She was just retaliating, and damn good at that. At least there's one person in this building who takes offence and doesn't bother hiding it.

'My pleasure.'

Another stern look, 'Current placement: Intelligence Division?'

'Yes.'

'Age?'

'Is that relevant?'

'I am asking you. Your age?'

'Tsk. Sixteen.'

Awashima looked at him closely, reminding Fushimi of some mind-reading character in one of the video games he played with Yata when they were at school; the character would look at someone like this because he could tell by doing so if they were lying.

'All clear,' said Awashima, ticking off something on the front page of the document she was holding. 'So you are younger than this other person the Captain recruited earlier. '

Fushimi had no idea who this other person was, and cared less, 'If that's all you need to confirm - '

'We are not even half done with it,' Awashima raised her voice. 'As you are aware, working in Scepter 4 means wearing a uniform at all times. You need to have yours measured. Come with me.'

They met someone on their way, someone who saluted Awashima and even greeted Fushimi with a nod. Fushimi suspected the person only did it because he was walking with the lieutenant. In the front yard they met a group of men on their way back to the dorm after having had a break somewhere out. Fushimi recognised the younger of the two chess players he ran into earlier, Hidaka or something, who had one arm around another person's shoulder and was apparently in high spirits.

'… so you know I got that from him in the end, don't you? And dirt cheap too. What a funny bloke. He said he'd give me two copies each when I told him I live with a roommate. Two copies each, you got that?'

Awashima cleared her throat. Hidaka's eyes fell on her, seemed to bulge for a nanosecond or two, and his whole body froze to a halt as he clicked his heels together in an impromptu salute like everyone else in the little group.

'Where have you been?'

'We just - had a stroll in town, ma'am. We are off duty today,' someone Fushimi did not know replied.

'Is that so,' for a fleeting moment Awashima glanced sideways at Fushimi as if cautioning him against what he just witnessed. Fushimi sensed it, as did everyone of the little group apparently. Fushimi saw all the eyes fall on him, and felt his ears grow warm in irritation.

'Hey,' said Hidaka loudly, pointing at Fushimi. 'If it isn't you I met earlier. Fushimi, is it? What are you doing here with Lieutenant Awashima?'

The group began to whisper among themselves.

'What's a child doing here?'

'He's younger than that little fellow Domyoji!'

'Are we having a Bring Your Family to Work Day or something?'

The whispers ceased abruptly as Awashima gave another look, 'Enough. This is FUSHIMI Saruhiko of the Intelligence Division. You may find yourselves working together one day, so mind the way you talk.'

Fushimi followed wordlessly as Awashima left, leaving the group in a discordant silence that did not last long. Fushimi could hear them bursting into chitchats again before he and Awashima entered the Records Office.

'Another kiddo in Scepter 4?!'

'Talk of the younger generation entering the labour force! Is he out of school yet?'

'Isn't it illegal to hire schoolboys?'

Fushimi's hands clenched into fists inside his trouser pockets.

'Just ignore them,' came Awashima's voice as if she could sense what Fushimi was thinking. 'They say women like to gossip, but working at Scepter 4 teaches you otherwise.'

'Which Division are those people in?'

'Swords. We have four squads numbered one to four. They are Scepter 4's soldiers.'

'All brawn and no brains, huh. '

'Did you say something?'

'No. Nothing.'

Awashima turned to look at him, 'You may need to have your uniform measured again next year. So don't think this is once and for all and over with.'

'What for?'

'By this time next year, you are likely to have grown out of your current uniform. You would only do your reputation as member of Scepter 4 a disservice if you wore uniform that barely fit, wouldn't you?'


A/N

Here's the first chapter. I wanted to get the basics sorted out so bear with me if it's a bit long (both the A/N and the chapter that is). The part where Munakata talks about naming Fushimi's sabre is based on a GoRA tweet or something which says every Scepter 4 member names their own sabre but in Fushimi's case Munakta named it for him. Philosophising about naming an object also seems like the sort of thing Munakata would do, but what he says does have some kind of redemptive effect on Fushimi when Fushimi tumbles down his internal abyss which he does all too frequently. In Days of Blue Hidaka is the first Special Ops member to break the ice with Fushimi but I want to capture the gradual process from the days before Special Ops is founded. Will later try to introduce multiple POVs so you don't get stuck in the teenage Fushimi's sulky angsty mind for too long. xx