Where we Began

December 29th 7:48 am

"Yeah, just as I thought." An exhausted sigh rushed past Saruhiko's lips as he took his barren surroundings into account, the cold December air rustling his raven hair in the bright sunlight. It was snowing lightly, and his footsteps muffled in places as he traversed untraveled territory through the fresh snowfall. In some flat areas, it even covered the land entirely. "There's nothing left but a big hole."

It was colder there than it had been in Tokyo over the last week, but it wasn't nearly as noticeable for someone like Saruhiko that morning. A proper feeding had left him sharper than ever and, in a way, he was thankful that things were progressing so quickly. The time to act was drawing nearer, and he couldn't be any more ready.

Life alone was boring, and the very idea of letting lost youth drag out any longer was a displeasing thought. Back when their time was precious, and dreams were untouchable, the chase was thrilling. He remembered a time where he and Misaki would stay up all night talking about the ways they would make the world theirs, but those days were nothing but a scar on his heart. It seemed like those things that they used to laugh about were within their reach since the day they received everlasting life, but now they were the ones finding themselves out of touch. If that was their eternal fate, then he didn't want to live forever. He wanted the fleeting perfection back, the beautifully flawed memoirs trying to seed the barren landscape of his heart. He wanted to nurture them, but instead, bloody tears rained disaster on the faded hope, waiting for gloomy clouds to break and show his ambitions sunlight.

It was the only reason he humoured his commander that day to stride towards the unsettling field surrounding one of the most horrific supernatural collisions in their country's great history. The infrastructure around the city had long found itself in a state of repair, but the site that had experienced the most damage remained untouched. It was strange. When he'd researched the area the day before and spoken to some locals neighbouring the catastrophe, they all said the same thing. They felt like the area was cursed, plagued by negativity, so nobody ever went there anymore. That left the greenery to overrun ground zero, making the intended heritage location seem more like a haunted forest. He supposed that was a typical mortal outlook on the calamity. It was hard for such narrow-minded individuals to see anything more.

But the area wasn't daunting to him as he traversed the sloped dip towards the heart of the past. What he felt when he approached was anticipation. Maybe his stay with the Blue Clan had corrupted him moderately, but when he glanced his surroundings only to see an explosion of life, it calmed him. Wildlife rustled in the crater around him, scurrying away as he shuffled through the tall, frosted weeds. Unlike humans, they weren't nearly as frightened of something as intangible as a revolution. Trees had begun to grow back from seedlings, and although they weren't very lively at that moment, he imagined the area was quite vibrant in the springtime. The view reminded him that no matter how many battles tore or trampled the earth, it healed. It was as everlasting as he was, and he could appreciate its resilience. He hoped that someday, his heart could triumph the same way. When his affliction faded and left him to whatever fate found him, he only wished to be at peace with the decisions to lead him to where he stood.

But like Saruhiko, that section of the trodden landscape he investigated was given a poor reputation for a crime it wanted no part of, leaving it a victim of circumstance. He could see the mourning in the wilted branches of unpruned sprouts, disdained that nobody cared to nurse their growth or watch them flourish. It had probably been several years since anyone had gone as deep into the basin as he did that day.

Saruhiko found it ironic when he touched his index finger to the bridge of his nose, lifting his spectacles in line to receive a better view of the memorial stone placed at the heart. He kept his distance, for a time, appreciating that someone had to brave the circumstance at some point to erect the monument.

When he drew closer, he took the characters inscribed into account. As expected, SCEPTRE4 found themselves hailed the heroes, and Habari Jin's name was the first to greet his observation. "In memory of those men of the sword who gave their lives to vanquish the greatest evil ever to plague Japan, and to all those who follow in their proud footsteps," he read aloud. He dusted off the decay splattering the stone so he could better comprehend the inscription. "May they triumph, for their cause is pure."

Tsk. Saruhiko ground his teeth, feeling mildly berated by the shrine. It was easy to tell that the hierarchy of the city or somebody equally as mortal erected the obelisk shortly after tragedy struck. Even though Saruhiko's passion for his role in his clan was far from rooted, at least he was capable of seeing the grey between the black and white. It wasn't about vanquishing or anything so absolute. Their duty, above anything else, was to understand. Maybe, at first, that had startled Saruhiko. He didn't expect it to be easy to infiltrate SCEPTRE4's ranks when he arrived on their doorstep, prepared to beg for a chance to be heard. The last thing he expected was to have open arms welcome him into their flourishing ranks.

On the outside, it was quite possible that society, and especially supernatural beasts of all breeds, may have seen the Blue Clan's authority as a threat. From Saruhiko's days as a red clansman, he remembered the fear of running into one of their members on his own. The rumours were that if they apprehended you, you were as good as dead.

But that wasn't true. It was factual that some demons perished while under the clan's care, but it was not without expending any effort to salvage the humanity behind wild eyes. It just happened that some creatures couldn't find salvation, but Saruhiko didn't believe that was the case with vampires.

He began to shift through the frozen, unkempt terrain once more, wondering why it was that he even bothered to visit. Initially, he'd planned to leave for a couple of days and return to his superior, stating that he found nothing without wasting his time with the difficult-to-navigate landscape. But over his stay with SCEPTRE4, at the very least, Saruhiko had grown to respect his king. Munakata Reisi was a man intelligent enough to solve mysteries that long preceded his time, strong enough to bear the burden of lives lost. He was brave enough to sacrifice everything for the preservation of humanity and kind enough to lend an ear to understanding. As bitter as Saruhiko was about his situation, he couldn't deny that he'd been unfair with the man from the start. If he felt like a pet, that was because of a premeditated notion that he couldn't escape. It had nothing to do with the great man who he called King.

As he closed his eyes, Saruhiko rushed out a disgruntled sigh from the bottom of his heavy heart. "What a waste of time," he muttered bleakly. "But at least it got me out of the office for a few days."

He could understand the residents' apprehension towards the area, though. Despite his initial lack of concern, after a cold wind blew, a restless and angry pressure began to settle beneath his skin. A lot of lives, mortal and not, vanished on that day when Jin thought he'd rid the world of Genji's threat, and Saruhiko did not doubt that residual spirits lingered among the foliage. It was that kind of senseless massacre that SCEPTRE4 sought to prevent, but like their predecessors, they were running out of time to be proactive.

Saruhiko had first seen the face of his flame nearly a decade prior, so he understood the terror on Neirah's face quite well. Ever since then, he'd carried the presence with him wherever he went. It was typically unobtrusive, most days, but when the thirst called late at night, those menacing eyes peeked ever slightly from behind the door. Just considering the notion so close to the demon's tomb had Saruhiko's skin actively crawling, and he usually didn't let such things disturb him. Then, he supposed that it was one thing to know that monsters exist, but it was another anxiety entirely to realize that they were inside of you.

The urge to shudder while he departed was strong, but Saruhiko contained it, stopping in his tracks instead. The monument erected in his clan's honour was at his back, the restless dead beneath his boots. The wind blew again, and he felt his heart rate quicken with unease. "This place…" he muttered roughly under his breath. "Why does it feel like the area is getting angrier by the minute?"

He slowly turned, observing the epicentre of the bowl he'd descended. His peripherals attentively scanned the terrain, and suddenly, he was afraid that something was going to leap from the depths in retaliation. It didn't, but Saruhiko shot his hand towards his sword when he focussed hard enough to trace movement coming from nearby the column that stood mounted in memory of his fallen ancestors.

Saruhiko's rushed breaths began to tremble as he tightened his grip on his sabre, his intent leer focussing even more vigilantly on the surge. It was a faint light. A red glow pulsed in slow waves throughout the grass he'd disturbed during his trek.

Although the colour was ominous, given his experiences that left him prejudiced, he slowly retracted his grip from the hilt of his weapon. At first, Saruhiko wasn't sure if he wanted to approach the subtle glow, but on a landscape so desolate, there had to be a reason it was there, and as he approached, he understood what he saw.

His gaze remained downcast even as he tipped his head back, glaring down his nose at the distorted vision. Somewhere beneath the tangled mess of snow-sprinkled sweetgrass, an inhumanly slow beat of lifeforce stained the earth.

The first instinct he had was to ignore it. He didn't want to get closer or contract whatever vile spirit rested beneath his toes. The last thing they needed just then was another accident leading to the whole resurrection of their greatest fear. Strangely enough, however, when he knelt to comb his fingers through the brittle, trampled blades, he didn't sense any ill intent. Although he, as a vampire, could see the embers of faded life, he'd never learned to read the colours. One would have expected foreboding shades like red to be attached to angry souls, but it didn't seem to be the case. There was nothing bitter about the light beneath his boots.

What baffled Saruhiko was that he was uncovering a lifeforce that didn't seem to be attached to a body, and that was unnerving. He'd never heard of something like that happening before. It didn't get any more comforting the moment he reached the dirt beneath, uprooting a small patch of roots entirely to show the flicker of aura rushing through the soil like it would through limbs.

Saruhiko immediately dropped backwards and shuffled away, his eyes wide and chest aching as it heaved for air. "W-what the hell is that thing?" He watched it flicker again, and in his mind, he couldn't help fearing that if he kept digging, he was going to stumble upon something frightening. 'Why? W-why is it there? What is it attached to?' Despite straightening, his body continued to tremble as he rushed towards the mark and began to unbury it like a dog with quivering claws. At that point, he just wanted to abandon his task entirely and go home.

But no place was home without Misaki, so that left him with nothing better to do.

As he began to uncover more of the frozen, naked earth, he blotted out the eerie view and flooded his thoughts with his purpose. Somewhere back in Shizume City, Misaki continued to wait out a bleak fate. Saruhiko stared at his filthy hands, hating them more as he worked to uncover hope for his friend's salvation. It was those hands that condemned the fiery spirit chained to a mundane existence filled with broken dreams. If whatever was hiding beneath his frozen fingertips could give him a fighting chance at righting his wrongs, he would dig to the centre of the earth. 'Just wait… a little longer.' Saruhiko closed his eyes as he shuffled through the tilled mulch, promising himself he wouldn't retreat even if he did upturn somebody's decayed carcass. 'I'm going to fix this. Just wait, Misaki.'

Saruhiko uneasily opened one eye to peek his progress, feeling like he'd been digging for a long time without feeling anything out of the ordinary. Grass, weeds that he prayed weren't venomous, and dirt- lots of dirt. But among it all, there was something else. His brow creased as his curiosity piqued his thoughts, and finally, his racing heart began to stabilize again. "What… is this?" The deep crimson rush came in slow waves, and as it would travel through a human body, the sparks spread along the veins of the earth in the same pattern each time.

He climbed to his feet to get a better view at what he'd unearthed, and when he studied the symbol, it felt vaguely familiar despite him recalling never laying eyes on it. It looked like flames, at first, but the tribal scrawl was a little more intricate than that. Sweeping curves harmonized with each other, some even twisting among the centre core of what appeared as a glyph. It was hard to make out entirely because so much time passed between slow pulses of the lifeforce, but if he had to make an educated guess, his instincts told him that it was likely some kind of seal.

The diamond shape enclosure containing the flames couldn't be a coincidence, not so close to the final resting place of his previous king and the spores of his affliction. At the very least, he couldn't ignore what looked like flames burning in the ground beneath his feet. "I don't… get it," he admitted vaguely.

The difficulty with Genji's return is that nobody knew how Jin managed to banish him in the first place. He died in battle with the majority of his clan with little to no record of how the confrontation played out. All they knew was that his sword was retrieved from that site and given to the next Blue King until Munakata Reisi wielded it. Tomaya had noted Tenrō being used to slay the demon, or at the very least, injure him, but then mentioned something about sealing immediately after. The man's credibility was negligible, at best, but it sure looked like he'd uncovered a seal. "So, you did seal the bastard away, didn't you?" he murmured curiously. He pulled up some more weeds to reveal more of the emblem's span, his analytical navy gaze tapering on the continued spill of colour. It was something that no mortal could have seen before him, and suddenly, he felt foolish for challenging his king's intuition. He wasn't even sure it would have done any good to send Tomaya either. Viewing a being's lifeforce was something he always thought belonged inherently to vampires. "And this. Whose is it?"

Experimentally, Saruhiko flattened his palm against the mark with every intent on setting it ablaze. But nothing came. He immediately tore his fingers away and stood again. Then, he upturned his palm and watched it ignite instantly to his command. He crouched once more, repeating his earlier attempt at igniting the mark, and again, nothing happened. The beat remained steady as ever like it was warding off the very evil within him, but it was incredibly slow. If the failing drum were attached to a living creature, that creature would be dying. "It's yours, isn't it?" He turned his eyes up towards the sight of the polished stone. "That's why this place felt so calm. You surrendered every bit of your life energy to this mark to seal Kagutsu, didn't you?"

He lowered his head, watching the faint crest surge like it was wheezing. "But you're only mortal…" he reasoned. "After more than one lifetime, even your lifeforce began to fade without a body. Now Kagutsu is getting stronger every day."

Tsk. Closing his eyes, Saruhiko balled his fist and slammed it weakly against the ground. "Damn it…" he muttered. "That's why Kagutsu needed us. When he was strong enough, he found a host and used what little influence he had to turn the tables. Ever since then, we've been keeping him alive through our flames, haven't we? Feeding him with the lifeforce we thought was meant to sustain ourselves." He slowly parted restless eyelids and watched the weak light fade with every dying breath. "When this light goes out, nothing will be left to hold him back. It's game over."

After staring at the bleak realization for a while, Saruhiko summoned one of his throwing knives and calmly started to carve out the pattern illuminating between heartbeats. He coiled his blade around the loose soil to get a better idea of how it appeared. "I bet you used that sword to do it too," he murmured calmly. "That's why it reacts to Kagutsu's presence." Suddenly, a dull snigger caught in his throat, causing his shoulders to quake while his crooked smile turned up to one side. "I hope that doing this doesn't do something stupid like cancel out your spell. That'd be just my luck…"

As he traced the edges to the best of his ability, the light remained, but it was weak. He knew just from looking at the feeble glow that it wasn't enough. A mortal life could never contain a demon's spirit, not even from a king.

Saruhiko's heart was heavy as he climbed back to his feet, satisfied with the layout of his inscription. He backed away enough that he could get a clear photograph on his phone, then after confirming its clarity, he quickly sponged his diligent work from the earth.

As Saruhiko stood in the basin staring at the barren spot like there was something to see, his heart grew heavy. What he stumbled upon was a monumental success, though it wasn't surprising that his king practically expected it to be so. For once, luck seemed to be shining down on him in that sacred place, and it was somewhat peaceful. Still, he couldn't lighten his frown. In his mind, he knew what was required. He would return to base, meet with his king, and tell Reisi that his investigation hadn't turned up anything of interest.

One thing that blue kings seemed to have in common, in Saruhiko's mind, was that they were all too noble for their own good. But Saruhiko wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. He wasn't opposed to playing the villain to meet his ends. If he returned his findings to his matriarch, he knew Reisi would repeat mistakes past, valiantly sacrificing himself for the preservation of humanity. Then, when his life force began to fade just like Jin's had, the seal would dissolve, and history would repeat itself for the third time. Ironically enough, mortality wasn't going to be enough to protect mortals. That somewhat didn't surprise Saruhiko. He'd always known that they were superior beings in every aspect.

But one ruined lifetime was enough for Saruhiko. If there was a chance that Misaki survived what was to come, he didn't want any trace of Genji's curses left. The moment the demon had gotten hold of them was the end of Saruhiko's life, his happiness. In his eyes, Genji had taken everything from him and left him feeling empty. Maybe he was bitter, but whatever filled him with the courage he needed to sacrifice everything for the sake of a second chance could stay a little longer. It could linger right up until he pulled his king's sword from his hip to carve the glyph into the sand, where he poured every last trace of immortality into its construction. He would give it all back to the same demon, and he didn't care if Genji choked on it.

"I don't want to move," he admitted dimly. "He's not here, is he? This mark is keeping him away. I can tell." Unfortunately, he could tell because he felt cold, meaning his flame found itself suppressed in the same way the Blue Clan was capable. It had been a while since he'd felt so alone, and something was restful about it.

Regrettably, he didn't have time to dawdle. It was important that he thought his actions through clearly, and documented everything he was about to do in case that his life wasn't enough generations later. The problematic part was going to be keeping it a secret from his superiors. Between Seri and Reisi, there was very little room for error. He appreciated their intelligence compared to the idiocy he'd experienced as a member of HOMRA, but it was inconvenient sometimes. Either way, his feet began to move, carrying him from the comforting remains of their humble guardian.

Again, the air grew thick and ominous as he departed, and it was likely the feeling of the demon and his flame beginning to stir once more. He began to climb the side of the basin towards town, watching the sky brighten as he approached the edge. At full health, the sunlight shouldn't bother him, but he certainly didn't need it right in his eyes while he was climbing the steep elevation. But what was worse was the lurching of a chaotic demon plunging from behind his line of sight straight towards him.

Saruhiko's heart stopped in his chest, and the remaining colour drained from his skin. His fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword in an instant as he drew it to counter the sight of burning eyes. They were so close to him that he thought the monster was going to take his head clean off his shoulders. He could only describe the crazed vision as a dog with salivating jaws and noxious claws.

Despite his nearness, Saruhiko's first strike didn't seem to connect, so he spun on his heels on the slippery slope to watch the spectre swerve. He blinked wildly, trying to focus his view on the weaving of smoke around him, and after a long moment of losing Genji's trace, Saruhiko stilled and lowered his weapon.

His breaths were panting rapidly with fear while he comprehended that it was likely all in his head. When he rested his nervous gaze on the gravestone at the core of the crater, he could still see the weakened lifeforce illuminating the earth he'd uncovered.

"Didn't like that, did you?" he muttered sourly. His tapered leer sharpened spitefully. "That's right, bastard. I've learned the rules. Now it's anybody's game."

Saruhiko thought he'd be happy to get out of the hole and back on the outskirts of the city, but as soon as he'd climbed out, he dropped his sword with a shrill clatter against the snowy pavement and tightly clasped his uniform at the centre of his chest. He keeled over his front, staring through wide eyes at the fluid ground beneath his feet. "W-what the hell?!" He collapsed to his knees, digging at his breastplate, desperately seeking to upturn the source of his agony as his glasses rattled next to his weapon.

His temperature rose, no. It skyrocketed in an instant as if something had just set his body ablaze. His blood felt molten as it coursed through his veins, causing every tendon and ligament to reject its flow. At that moment, he comprehended just how angry he'd made the demon inside of him. He coughed raggedly to help ventilate the pressure boiling inside of him, the force swelling next to his lungs taking his breath away. "Damn it… Not… yet…!"

He refused. No matter what, Saruhiko refused to die before the time came when he could see his duty to his friend fulfilled. Until the moment came where he could apologize properly for taking them down the path that ultimately led to their destruction, he refused to give up. "Get out," he commanded hoarsely. As his body weakened, one hand dropped in front of him to support his breakdown as the other wrung his shirt as far away from his chest as it could go without him removing it entirely. "Take your stupid flame with you. We don't need it!"

Regardless of his defiance, the pain began to creep its way into Saruhiko's expression as he struggled to catch his breath. He hoped nobody approached because he could feel the loss of control, causing his teeth to drop, and the unbearable heat inside of him made him thirst like he'd never known. 'No… I'm going to… fix this.' His eyes were burning with the unfamiliar presence of tears, and he hated it. 'I'll save you.'

He could almost see fragments of their past, and he used them to erect a barrier around his ruined heart. The smiles and laughter that accompanied ridiculous schemes. They used to pretend that the fate of the world was in their hands. How ironic, he thought. He tore at the fabric of his uniform to try and let the fresh air rush under his skin to contest the heat. "I'm not lettin' you get me first," he panted in a sudden fit of determination. "Misaki… don't you dare listen to that creep. We're not done. This isn't over yet!"

In his next sharp inhalation, the cold December air rushed through his body and returned the ice he didn't know he'd miss in his veins. He was rattled to his core, left on his hands and knees staring into the pavement he'd scarred with his struggle. "I feel like… Kagutsu just took his first breath." He turned over his shoulder, blurred vision less proper correction watching a pale crimson surge at the bottom of the pit he'd abandoned. 'He knows I'm coming for him…'

For a long moment, he waited, lingering in place and trying to get the feeling to return to his numb limbs. While he triumphed in a means to save his comrade, the demon's presence only seemed to fortify, and he felt like the only reason he managed to push him out again was that he was too stubborn to give in first. If he ever found out that Misaki had resisted the call while he was swallowed up by it, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

"Wait for me, Misaki," he whispered. The sweat that beaded on his brow began to fall onto the icy asphalt as he stared at the hard ground beneath him, trying to gather his thoughts. "I'll save you. I promise."

It was late by the time Saruhiko managed to make it back to his home base at the heart of Tokyo's metropolis. By the time he'd arrived, all he wanted to do was sleep after he'd been run through so intensely by a formless entity. But that wasn't true either. The demon within him had a shape that was vaguely reminiscent of a human. The disturbing consideration noting his physique cautioned Saruhiko that any face he'd seen could take Genji's place with little alteration. Soon, he would confront the terrifying spectre instead as Suoh Mikoto, he was sure.

But no matter how badly he wanted to sleep, his king made reporting a top priority. It frustrated him that Reisi made it sound like he was returning from a vacation, not a trip across the country to visit an over-glorified tomb. Instead of returning to the dormitory, Saruhiko made his way to their headquarters and, more specifically, to Reisi's office. Luckily, he had plenty of time on his return to make it seem convincing that he didn't find anything, so he wasn't concerned about documenting his lack of findings. What disturbed him was Reisi's uncanny sixth sense. He was a difficult man to deceive, so if Saruhiko didn't watch what he said, he'd be tripping over his tongue just as severely as Tomaya had.

As he approached the double doors leading to his commander's office, he noticed the slabs cracked open, and inside, he could hear Seri's authoritative voice. That wasn't unusual, but it also wasn't comforting. It seemed like Saruhiko remained shaken by the demon's presence, and it threatened to overwhelm him because he couldn't get his senses to clear. He always felt like the glowing crimson eyes were burning just over his shoulder.

"Captain, I just don't think that we're ready to-"

"Awashima-kun, I find it fascinating that you've changed your opinion so drastically," Reisi proclaimed evenly. "I wonder now, is it because Tetsuko brought your personal affairs to light?"

"I haven't the slightest what you're talking about."

Saruhiko gently nudged the door open a little fuller, watching the argument ensue between the parties involved with a cautious leer.

"Do you take me for a fool?" Reisi was using his mock command tone that cautioned he was saving face with a silent warning. Then, the man began to pace around the woman with his hands folded by his tailbone. "I warn you now that when Fushimi returns, we will confront our enemies with swords in hand."

"But Captain-!"

"Tell me, Awashima-kun, why is your hand bandaged?" Reisi pried through a scanning smile. "I find it amusing that you returned to the habit after seemingly giving that up just after Christmas. Does this have something to do with your perceived involvement with vampires?"

Saruhiko's teeth ground as he struggled to keep his senses clear, his fangs elongating as he milled his molars impatiently in preparation to strike. "You bastard…" he muffled under his breath. "Not now…"

Seri quickly looked towards her hand and then bashfully returned her crystal-clear eyes towards her king's scrutiny. "Well, I-"

"You can't, can you?" Reisi crossed the room once more, approaching where Seri continued to falter. "You know, when these sorts of things come to light, I generally expect to see you blushing. But you aren't right now." His gaze sharpened the moment he saw Seri's eyes flash with corruption. "With Fushimi's return, SCEPTRE4 will make its move on the demon. So, I do hope you've prepared."

The moment Reisi turned his shoulders to the woman to dismiss her company, Saruhiko's hand was on his sword in the doorway. He didn't expect fate to work so quickly in his favour, and he had to say, he was fond of it. But before he could lurch onto the scene, Himori stormed around the corner panting for air as he filled his tone with a sense of urgency.

"Fushimi-san! It's the Lieutenant. She's been attacked!"

The focus drained from Saruhiko's eyes as he dropped his guard for just a moment. "What?!" A second later, he heard the swift glide of steel emerging from its sheath from within his king's office. The moment he turned to see Mikoto lunging across the room towards his leader, he kicked open the gate to separate them and drew his weapon. "Captain!"

"Stand your ground," Reisi ordered evenly. He kept his sword between him and Mikoto, and his second hand raised to coat his office in a suppressant typically used to counter Genji's flame. "There is no escaping your fate now, Kagutsu Genji. Have you come to surrender yourself?"

Suddenly, Mikoto leapt away from the confrontation with Reisi, a low rumbling laugh rushing steaming breaths past his fangs despite the layer of ice between them. "It doesn't matter how many years pass, you blues stay the same."

"I'll consider that a compliment," Reisi mocked dryly through his arrogant smirk. "Although, given the evidence, you haven't changed much either, have you?"

"You're too late…" Mikoto cocked a brow, shrugging his hands out to either side of his shoulders with a sadistic grin. "Habari's time is up. Rest assured that I'll see his remnants from the face of this earth before long." A sinisterly malicious smirk twisted up the Red King's expression even more vilely than usual. "Not even ash will remain."

Reisi's grip on his sword tightened, and as badly as he wanted to attack, he couldn't ignore the apprehension in his heart to remind him that Mikoto's life was attached to the demon's. At the very least, he needed to wait until he heard what Saruhiko had to say. "So, you just stopped by to flash your fangs?" Reisi scorned. "You certainly are a demon of pride, aren't you?"

"Captain! Lieutenant Awashima has been attacked!" Saruhiko pressured. "If I had to guess, I'd say it was the demon. He probably didn't want the real Awashima interfering." The moment Mikoto turned his heated glower on Saruhiko, the boy felt his insides bind, and his blood ran cold. He'd never much cared for the man before, but sensing Genji's presence within him nearly made him retch.

"Let's play a game," Mikoto rumbled lowly. "Now that you know the rules."

Saruhiko steadied his grip on his sword, steeling his nerve as he tried to calculate the probability of being able to draw the seal from memory, then, of course, there was the task of getting Reisi's sword from his hands. Before Saruhiko's weary mind could dwell too much on the alarm choking him, the room ignited in golden flame hot enough to cause Saruhiko to back off despite his tolerance. "Captain!"

"I'm fine." With the casual wave of his hand, Reisi's banished the fire with his aura and sheathed his sword. By the time the embers had settled, Mikoto had vanished. "This isn't the first time Suoh Mikoto has visited, but it was the first time that Tenrō reacted so strongly to the evil inside of him. This was only a warning, a formality if you will. We mustn't forget that Kagutsu hails from an era where those traditions were frequently practiced." He heaved a nervous sigh and meditated on the courtesy. "I suppose we should be honoured that he sees us as a capable form of resistance. Otherwise, he may have extinguished our threat before we knew he had returned."

Saruhiko wasn't so sure. In his opinion, this was Genji's warning to him for disturbing the nest. Now, Saruhiko knew just how weak Jin's seal was, but he also knew that Genji was still facing resistance. He wasn't entirely free yet, and so he was flaunting the power he retained after seizing control of his successor.

With a deep crease in his brow, Reisi turned his indisputable command towards Saruhiko's hesitancy. "Go to Awashima-kun. Report back to me immediately with her condition. I will command the sweep of our grounds."

With a stern nod, Saruhiko whirled on his heels and chased after Himori down the hall. Because they'd only kept their elite stationed in shifts at the building during a time of crisis, there wasn't much traffic in the rooms. That was likely how Mikoto managed to attack Seri and leave her bloodied in the centre of the floor, scrambling for breath. The moment Saruhiko turned the corner to lay eyes on her, he stopped entirely. He reached out with unrestrained force and slammed his hand into Himori's chest, bunching his fist in the man's uniform to stop him.

"Go back," Saruhiko commanded sternly. "Go to the Captain and tell him that I'm taking her." He wasn't any more specific with his command.

"Taking her? To the hospital?" Himori urged uneasily. "But I already called for a medical unit-"

"Go and tell him exactly what I just told you!" Saruhiko roared intolerantly. "We don't have time for your self-indulgent questions!" He quickly released the man, giving him an encouraging shove back the way they'd come before he stepped towards the trembling woman.

Himori seemed to linger, watching Saruhiko calmly drop to Seri's side. "She's in shock," he murmured faintly.

"She's not in shock," Saruhiko announced bitterly. He reached up and adjusted the woman's collar to conceal the gory teeth marks buried in the woman's neck. "She's freezing to death."

Saruhiko was relieved when Himori finally listened to his order and rushed through the halls to pass along Saruhiko's warning. He ground his teeth, lifting the woman's head onto his lap as he assessed her other various injuries. It looked like she had time to draw her sword, but it was clean, meaning that she probably didn't have the chance to attack her unexpected assailant. "Lieutenant, try to stay conscious. It will help."

"Fushimi…?" Seri's lashes weakly fluttered until Saruhiko could see the glossy surface of her eyes beneath. "You've returned. Did you… find anything of worth?"

"I'm taking you to HOMRA," he interrupted her calmly. "Just try not to fall asleep. The longer you remain conscious, the longer you'll be able to keep your body temperature from dropping."

"It's so cold…"

"I know."

"Wait." Before Saruhiko could lift her, she struggled. When her hands touched his chest to deny his aid, she silently marvelled at how inviting his warmth felt. It made her wonder how the tables had turned so violently. "Not there," she begged. "Please. Give me one of your knives."

"You're not going to give up now," Saruhiko hissed impatiently. "Not when we're this close."

Tears started to bubble in the corner of Seri's eyes, and Saruhiko had to look away to deny how badly they hurt him to shatter his illusion of her strengths. "I don't want him to see me like this," she whimpered. "If Suoh Mikoto is lost, I'll never receive the flame. I'll die an animal."

"We're not animals!" Saruhiko's body was so tight he thought it might break with the percussive sound of him shouting his rejection. Then, he quickly lowered his tone to keep from abusing her weakened senses. "Don't be so damn proud," he hissed. "You're not gonna die. I'm going to take you to them, and they'll help you. Chitose survived for almost a week before he ever received the Red King's flame. I don't need a week. All I need to do is find the bastard who did this."

Seri shuddered weakly in his arms as he tore his jacket from his body and draped it over her shivering form. "You found something," she whispered hopefully. "At the crater."

Saruhiko's tone softened as he gently hoisted her in his arms. "You're not gonna die," he reiterated sternly. "If you do, it's because I failed, and given my repute, that seems pretty unlikely."

Though Seri found it challenging to obey his command to remain conscious, she couldn't help but titter lightly at his dry remark. "Are all vampires' jokes so ill-timed?"

Tsk. A dull snort caught in Saruhiko's sinuses as he watched their awakened forces begin to assemble at the end of the hallway. There would be no hiding her state from them now. "Lieutenant, I've never been more serious about anything in my entire life."