K Project: REACH
Chapter Three
Intermission
Saruhiko Fushimi once answered to another King.
That King, while aloof, barbaric and headstrong, was also a person wrapped in a great, mesmerizing warmth. Without persuasion, he would attract those who sought such a warmth in their hearts, be it obvious to all, or only to one's knowledge.
That King, without question, protected all who would enter his clan.
Though, should they choose to leave his side, Saruhiko learned, much to his ever-confusing frustration, he would let them go just as easily as they had come.
Saruhiko Fushimi had answered to that King until the day he chose to walk away from him. On days he finds himself alone with his thoughts, he often wonders why he is still able to bear the emblem of the clan he betrayed, and wield their powers as if he still belongs.
You still have a place here, are the words that always seem to float into his head from somewhere, said by the voice of a young man who he sometimes speaks to in dreams.
A mop of blond hair and twinkling, light brown eyes; no matter the atmosphere, always offering a smile far too kind for the likes of his traitorous self.
Tatara Totsuka is dead.
Yet, like an enigmatic ghost, he is still impacting a presence on this world.
He's the reason why Saruhiko is gathered on this road with his current clansmen. Even in the worrying absence of their King, Scepter 4 continues to respond to orders issued by their lieutenant without hesitation.
With a mellow expression, the third-in-command watches the curvaceous blonde as she speaks quietly to one of the members.
Saruhiko recognizes him as Akira Hidaka.
Akira is a tall young man with a short temper and a preference for action over talk in battle. He likes to participate in trivial activities (trivial, as far as Saruhiko is concerned) when he's off duty, such as gossiping about women or hanging out with his comrades. Since joining, he and the brunet have casually exchanged words on the odd occasion.
However, Saruhiko, other than in the event of work-related situations, knows that he does not interact well with others and has made it clear to all in some way that he has no intentions of doing so.
That's why, when Akira salutes their lieutenant and walks his way with a big smile, Saruhiko suddenly feels like an animal trapped at the very back of its cage.
"Fushimi-san!"
Tsk.
Saruhiko sucks his teeth at that annoyingly happy face, which looks very much out of place, given the severity of the current situation. Before he can make up a reason to excuse himself, the Scepter 4 member throws an arm around his shoulder and steers him completely around.
The two of them begin to walk away from the other clansmen and down the opposite length of the long bridge. Cars are piled up all around them, their passengers trying to leave the area since the initial clash between the Red and Blue clan.
Chancing a look over his shoulder while not so subtly trying to shift the other's arm off of him, he grumbles in irritation.
"What are you doing, you moron? I'm supposed to be watching my post."
Akira Hidaka's grip tightens, pulling the dark-haired boy closer so that they are now shoulder to shoulder. His brown eyes peer up as he cranes his head, scrutinizing Saruhiko's face.
The serious tone the brunet uses to scold the higher-up betrays the smile he wore just a moment ago. "You made the lieutenant upset with your curt attitude about the Captain. Now she doesn't want to see your face for a while," he informs, looking irked.
Saruhiko's mood darkens almost immediately.
Ah, that...
He'd nearly forgotten about that.
.
.
.
"She'll get over it...eventually," he mumbles under his breath, but it feels like he's trying to convince himself so he can just move on, rather than discuss it with his troublesome comrade.
That small exchange he'd shared with Seri a while ago in front of their clansmen regarding the well-being of their Captain turned out to be only an interlude to the confusing mess he'd later created for himself.
"When did you start smoking?" had been the beginning of that conversation.
Seri Awashima is leaning against the end of one of the squad trucks parked on the roadside of the patrol site. Her long, shapely legs are crossed, one ankle over the other. The roundness of her backside makes the short, dark skirt beneath the draping fabric of her uniform look taut in an alluring way.
Beneath the slowly fading light of the sunset sky, the lieutenant of Scepter 4 is a breath-taking sight to behold. With just the way the wind gently stirs the undone tresses of her flaxen hair around her shoulders, she looks much prettier than all the times Saruhiko Fushimi can ever recall seeing her. More than he is willing to admit, he can almost see the appeal that many of his new clansmen gossip about whenever they're off duty.
Almost.
After all, Saruhiko has always been turned off by the disgusting habit of smoking.
The lit stick of tobacco in the lieutenant's hand unfurls thin tendrils of smog, polluting the air with it's heady, toxic scent. The third-in-command resists the urge to press his hand over his nose; the smell almost makes him want to gag.
With her head turned away from him, Seri's grey-blue eyes stay focused on the glittering sea beyond the bridge railing as she brings the unlit end of the cigarette to her mouth to take a drag.
Saruhiko silently waits for her reply.
"...Do you need something, Fushimi?" she eventually asks in her normal, professional calm, but he can sense the 'don't-disturb' atmosphere that warps around her like the most oppressive plague.
Too bad for her; he's feeling rather assertive today.
"...Like you asked, I've sent Dōmyōji and Akiyama to help the authorities make sure the traffic flow is moving along at a steady pace." Saruhiko informs casually, rubbing his finger against the underside of his nose.
That smell is really starting to bother him, but if Seri has any clue, it doesn't look like she'll do anything about it.
Saruhiko's deep blue eyes narrow as he scrutinizes the woman who is doing her best to ignore him. He's never considered himself to be particularly good with analyzing other people's emotions, but something is wrong with his lieutenant; that much, he knows is certain.
Maybe it's the heavy atmosphere.
Maybe it's the irritating smoke, or maybe he simply doesn't appreciate being ignored.
But Saruhiko says it.
The first thing that comes to his mind finds its way out of his mouth before he can even consider whether it should be said at all:
Gesturing to the cigarette poised between Seri's slender fingers, he says, "The person you care so much for wouldn't be impressed right now, you know."
.
.
.
For the first time since their conversation began, Seri tilts her head in the dark-haired young man's direction. Her eyes cut to him, but away from the light, they look about as dull and as dangerous as sea glass.
"I know," she admits quietly, "but recently, I can't seem to stop." She wears a dismal, self-depreciating kind of smile as the smoke gently swirls away from her lips.
It's the kind that fills Saruhiko with rare regret.
...Such a response was not what he was expecting at all.
Cold retaliation. A scolding from her, or perhaps another silent gap in their one-sided conversation, but not that somber look.
.
.
.
Before he can register his exact fault, a sigh from the lieutenant interrupts his thoughts.
Dropping the stick to the ground and crushing it beneath the high heel of her shoe, Seri clips back her hair and straightens herself up. With a nod that's not quite directed at him, she begins to walk away.
Saruhiko watches her leave; that expression she had shown him would leave him deeply contemplating their exchange for the next couple of hours.
He knows that he shouldn't have meddled.
Whatever affairs are between his superiors are really none of his business. He supposes he could chalk this one up to his own insatiable ego.
Sometimes, the way he could behave so childishly surprised even him.
"I, uh...I'm sorry, Fushimi-san," Akira speaks up, looking apologetic. He feels as though he might have been out of line, going as far as to scold his higher up. Even more worrying is that the dark-haired young man now appears to be brooding more than usual.
"I'm sure it can be sorted out. Why don't you try saying you're sorry?"
Saruhiko blinks at his comrade who is still walking beside him, having almost forgot he was there.
"...Yeah," the third-in-command replies with a lopsided grimace.
He supposes he owes his lieutenant an apology after all of this is over.