The De Sade Complex

Chapter Two – To Witness a Shatter

Saturday 13th June 2015 (5 months ago…)

Akiyama picked up a leather wallet from the bloodied floor, his gloved hands handled it carefully; thumb and index finger pinching the corners delicately while keen eyes analysed the object thoroughly, naming off what he saw in his head.

Traces of blood on wallet – Relatively fresh, 4-5 hours ago? Meaning the event took place at 2-3am. Victim or killers blood? Send to forensics for DNA tests and further information.

Pocket for loose change is worn – Owner carries lots of change around, however not a lot of notes. Owner/Victim is poor and is probably unemployed.

Opening the wallet, Akiyama spotted an ID card in a plastic case. He removed it and read the name.

"Lieutenant Awashima. Victim was a man named Shu Wukari, 23, born 31st September" reading the contents of the card aloud to his superior, "Blood on wallet, I'll give it to forensics for DNA tests. I believe the victim may be poor and unemployed."

"Thank you Akiyama. May I also see the wallet?" Seri pulled on her gloves and gestured for the item.

Akiyama nodded and made his way to the body lying a few meters away from him. Crouching beside the bloodied body was Seri who was gazing over the corpse for clues. Akiyama bent down to hand her the wallet and then swiftly walked away to his next task which was to ensure the area was suitably cordoned off to the public and press.

Seri pulled out the ID card from the wallet and held it out to compare with the victims face, through the cuts and the obvious symptoms of insomnia and drinking, the facial features certainly held a resemblance. Satisfied she now had the victim's personal information and could proceed to contact a relative and tell them of the man's passing, Seri resumed her analysis.

Numerous cuts along legs, arms and neck: appear self-administered however the cuts seem too deep for someone who was inflicting this on themselves, pain would be too much for them and they would consequently stop. Gun lying next to the body, does not hold any ammo. Victim may have tried to use this in self-defense but found out there was no bullets. Knife embedded into the heart is probably the death weapon. Appears to have cut through 4 inches. No visible fingerprints, killer must have known what they were doing.

"Lieutenant, you asked for me?" Fushimi asked in his usual bored tone. He was tapping the handle of his knife rapidly, unusual from the normally lazy 3rd in command but Seri didn't bother to ponder on it.

"Yes, I did" Lieutenant Awashima confirmed. Sensing that his superior would not care to elaborate, he grudgingly made his way over to her and the body while muttering a string of choice words pointed to the blonde woman. He crouched beside the body, opposite to Seri. Upon realizing that the damn woman would not open her mouth, he sighed in annoyance which finally gave her the ability to formulate sentences.

"Tell me what you think happened for the body to end up like this." She said, preoccupied on the body.

"He has cuts on his arms and necks, my guess it's an act of self-harm not a killers torture method." Fushimi dug into his pocket for gloves and put them on; the gloves slapped his skin lightly as he let go of the ends. He proceeded to lift the left arm of the victim so both he and Seri could see. "See how the blade cuts towards the victim. That's a sign of self-harm. If it was a killer, the blade would cut outwards unless the killer was behind the victim which would make cutting the victim uncomfortable." He gestured to the arm to put across his meaning.

"But the cuts are too deep. Look," She pointed to a particular cut. "That almost hit a nerve. He would not cut himself like that, it would be too painful." Seri argued.

"Yeah, but the man was extremely intoxicated. Look how many empty bottles are around him, it stinks of alcohol. He probably didn't even register the pain."

"Okay, so let's assume it was self-harm. What about the gun, the bullets? It was self-defense surely."

"The gun is dropped on the left side of the body, the man was probably left handed. Look, all of his belongings are positioned to benefit a lefty. The tea's handle is on the left side and over there," Fushimi pointed to a desk, "There are some left-handed scissors. See my point?"

Seri nodded slowly, trying not to argue her case when he clearly had the evidence to support his. That didn't stop her gut instinct in crying out "murder" at the scene before her.

Fushimi continued with his theory. "So he probably wanted to use the gun to end his life but discovered it didn't have any bullets, and instead of searching for them, he got a knife and stabbed himself."

"So you think this is a suicide case?" Awashima asked.

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"And not a murder case?"

"Obviously." Fushimi replied.

Fushimi flicked a knife casually between his fingers, impatient and energized. He lurked in the shadows, wearing clothes which helped him blend into his dark bleak surroundings; a black leather jacket, dark grey trousers and black trainers. His eyes were set on a blue wooden door ahead of him which was just waiting to be entered. He withdrew his phone from his trouser pocket and checked the time.

11:24 pm.

Any second now.

The door opened with a whoosh and a thud as a woman thrust it into the white plaster wall next to it. The woman was putting on her coat, harshly. She had green eyes, red lipstick which gave her features an empowering vibe and matched her fiery red hair.

She tugged on a small suitcase and stepped out of the flat. A tall blonde man came up behind her, raking his hand through his hair repeatedly, tired and unmistakably drunk, the man sloppily grabbed the woman's wrist and spluttered out a sentence which seemed to have a negative reaction from the woman as she started yelling while freeing her hand.

"No Shu! I don't give a damn that you're trying, it isn't working! And like hell you're trying. I haven't seen you even once think to find a job. You just sit and stare at the TV all day and I'm sick of it. I fucking deserve better and you are no way near it. So get your hands off me," She wretched her hand away from the man and his surprisingly iron grip and leaned close to Shu with venom in her eyes. "And leave me alone."

Fushimi smirked, liking this woman's fire and hatred. He halfheartedly began considering if he should pursue her instead. She would certainly give her the rage and fight he was looking for. But a glance at the object of the woman's anger told him to stay put. The man was consumed in grief, painfully so. He had his tall frame hunched in resignation of his fate. He was probably doubting his self-worth and would soon turn to alcohol as his refuge. This is why Fushimi had chosen him. Shu Wukari: No one of actual importance. He had an average upbringing but small achievements academically meaning he worked low-pay jobs. When his company dropped hundreds of workers, Shu was one of the unfortunates. His family supported him as much as they could but eventually got pissed and kicked him out. Now he lives in a dodgy estate building in a dodgy apartment suffering from depression. And really, what kind of pain would lure Fushimi in more than self-loathing?

Shivering in almost giddy excitement Fushimi walked out of the shadows. He walked quietly but surely towards Shu. When he got close enough for the man to realize this wasn't someone merely walking to their own apartment, his eyes widened in fear. His hand sloppily reached out to the door handle in a sordid attempt to close the door.

Too late.

Fushimi lunged forward and grabbed the man's wrist tightly in his hand. He tugged Shu towards him and twisted the wrist painfully behind his back. The man let out a grunt of pain but was stopped short of screaming when a sharp metal knife met the skin of his neck, slicing it gently.

"Walk forward. Don't scream…yet." Fushimi commanded gruffly.

The man obeyed, whimpering as he took shaky steps inside his apartment, wincing from the pain of the disjointed wrist still being held by Fushimi. Fushimi followed him and once he was inside, he kicked the door closed with his foot and immediately let go of the man. Shu stumbled onto the floor, clutching his wrist. It was bruising, purple and black painting over otherwise pale skin. That was were Fushimi held him, he was the one that caused Shu pain, his mark.

Fushimi inhaled sharply, loud enough to make a high whistling noise. His eyes dilated in lust, revealing slightly hooded eyes. Tingling sensations jolted him into alertness more then any alarm, snaking up his spine and coursing through his bloodstream. Fushimi clenched his hands into fists, shaking visibly from the strain of keeping control, of maintaining his humanity, of not becoming a savage. But oh god, he wanted to. He wanted to be ruthless, wild and animalistic but he could not. He had to have this act of sin down to a science or otherwise he would be caught.

He exhaled deeply and walked through the damp and dingy hallway to the kitchen (memorizing the layout of the flat before setting off was key) where the kitchen knives would surely be. He slid gloves on and picked a knife out at random. Flicking the knife and checking the sharpness, he familiarized himself with it and strode back to the main room. He found Shu tapping numbers into a phone and calmly, instinctively he threw one of his own preferred blades at the man. His slight groan of a scream filled Fushimi's air, the noise echoing around his ears deliciously and Fushimi could barely register the thud of a wallet fall to the bloodied ground. And who cares anyway? Let the police find it, I can watch his family be in pain as well. Fushimi grinned at the thought.

He could feel his being blur as he gave into primal, sadistic, savage need.

….

"I think we'll go for that vein this time." Fushimi traced a thick bulging vein leading to Shu's hand, most prominent at the wrist with his knife, careful not to cut into it just yet.

He was positioned behind Shu and was intentionally cutting in the awkward position so the man could not report torture if it looked like self-harm. Fushimi was holding the near limp man roughly, one hand on his shoulders to keep him upright and the other on his arm. He was surrounded by Shu's intoxicating blood. It was nothing out of the ordinary but the moonlight filtering in through the blinds made the puddle of crimson so…pretty.

He shook himself out of his trance-like state to the slight shudder of Shu's sobs. He grinned.

And cut. Deeply. Agonizingly. Tortuously.

"Aaaarrrghhh!" The man shrieked, throwing his head back, colliding with Fushimi's sturdy shoulder.

And god was it a truly lust-evoking scream.

….

Shu was being boring now. His screams didn't affect him in such an intense way like before. It was actually quite a turn-off if he was being honest. The poor man had lost his voice and now when he "screamed" –if something so outrageously not opera-like could be called that – it was a hideous choking noise. High pitched and low pitched at the same time if that even fucking exists, so disgusting he couldn't do it anymore.

Fushimi stood up, letting the man's head thud onto the floor, his quite frankly pathetic tears and snotty nose in full view. Urgh. Funny how something so arousing could be so vile in a matter of minutes. He went to the fridge, desperate for a drink.

When he returned he heard a distinct clink and whipped his head round to see Shu on his knees with a gun shaking between his hands. Tch. I don't have the energy for this shit. Fushimi thought lazily. He threw the gun away with his knife. The gun slid to the left of Shu, and Fushimi immediately followed it. He quickly had the ammo scattered on the floor and turned his head round to Shu's general direction. Before the man had time to beg for mercy –I hate the pathetic beggars, and to think, that I was going to let you live. What a joke - he had pounced on him, throwing Shu back on his back and one of his own knives deeply embedded in him. Like the animal he truly was.

Well fuck. This is going to take some time to clean up.

Firstly, was the cover up of the murder weapon. Fushimi withdrew his own knife, washed it thoroughly and put it in a pocket. Intent on burning it in acid when he got back to his flat and found another kitchen knife from Shu's kitchen and shoved the fucker into the stab wound. Then came the gun. It was on the left side. But Shu was a right handed person. Everyone knew that was an awkward angle to shoot themselves from. He left the gun where it was but turned any object so the handles were on the left side with a firm reminder to change any records that stated Shu Wukari was a right handed man into a left handed man.

He was gone. Within 3 hours he was called into a crime he himself had committed.

"What?" Sukuna growled, in his opinion, he did a good job of concealing his confusion behind anger. And another thing he did a good job of? Not covering his eyes self-consciously. Even though his hands were twitching from the urge. "What's my eye colour got to do with anything?"

"What are the colour of your eyes?" Anna asked curiously, seemingly oblivious to the rage building up inside Sukuna.

"Doesn't fucking matter!" He snarled dangerously. Sukuna's grip on the wall was released as he snatched a large lock of Anna's silver hair and tugged it down. The hand gripping his axe pushed more into Anna's neck drawing blood which made its slow descent down Anna's pale neck.

Anna let out a slight whimper followed by a cry as the searing pain in her scalp caused her to fight back tears. She gripped Sukuna's wrist but could not pry his hands off her hair. She felt dangerously close to burning him and although he was the enemy, she didn't want to destroy him. She tried to calm herself down, douse the fire with water as it were, and fixed her eyes anywhere but her tormentor. She caught sight of her red blood. Bright and dark and alive. And so very pretty, yet so very ugly.

"Get your fucking goddamn hands off her!" Izumo roared viciously.

….

Heels clicked on the floor; a succession of rapid taps that echoed across the vast hall.

"See to it there is no one else here that could further our problems."

So far she had checked all of the main dining rooms, the back stage of these very same rooms; a long and trying task. Being quick yet thorough and preoccupied by worries for Kusanagi was an multitask even she could not perform well in. The business sections had been next. In those, the strong stench of cigarette smoke and sweat made sure to drive her out twice as fast as the main dining rooms. But still the search there turned up with nothing. Afterwards she ventured to the various toilets scattered around the building, (maybe the greens would be applying make-up or war paint, or simply relieving their bowels, it was a foolish hope) but also turned up with nought. Then was the horrifying experience of searching the attic, which was indeed a bunch of bedrooms for impatient couples. The musky scent of "bodily liquids" made her want to gag and she just about lost her temper when she spied a few couples still strewn across the bed in post-intercourse bliss or…still at it, to put it lightly. She made sure they were escorted out and was tempted to kick them out of the restaurant without any clothes in the biting cold. The kitchens was the last place she visited but the delicious aroma of properly made food made her stay a few more seconds than necessary.

It was a safe guess than, at this point to assume that only the two J-Rank members Sukuna Gojou and Yukari Mishakuji, were present in the restaurant however Fushimi did report a number of lower ranking Greens appearing around the facility on a "decoy mission" apparently, they were dealt with. It was definite that Sukuna would almost certainly be engaged in combat with Izumo or going to be. That left Yukari. He seemed to be nowhere in sight. And Seri had no time to be searching for him any longer, he was probably with Sukuna right now and it would be unfair on Izumo to try and take them both down while protecting his King.

She made her way to the Kid's room as quickly as she could, passing the abandoned main room she had been in only 20 minutes ago. She grasped the handle of the double doors firmly and tugged it open, the feral screams and delighted laughter guiding her to the…bathroom? They were fighting there? Well, you couldn't pick your battlefield right? Seri began walking purposefully towards the sounds. One hand grasping for her sabre as she prepared to fight.

"You know, that cold face of yours does not do anything for your appeal."

Her eyes darted to the corner of her vision. Yukari Mishakuji. The man wore a black tailcoat which reached just below his knees, he wore it unbuttoned with a silver vest and white button-up shirt, around the collar was a black cravat. He had his "hideous" seaweed green hair tied back into a ponytail with two strands of purple hair framing his face and an added black hat to hide aforementioned green hair. He was on the stage, leaning casually on a wall, like he was waiting for someone.

"Maybe smile a bit. Yes, that would strike a different type of fear in your enemies" He was stopped by Seri rolling her eyes and trying to hide a scoff, "Though, looking at you now, I suppose that would be too much for you. Ah well, I can settle for being more passionate."

"What are you doing here?" Seri asked in an authoritative tone. Her hand gripped the handle of her sword tighter, she tugged it half-way out of its sheath as a warning.

"What am I doing here instead of helping my clansman, you mean?" He rephrased with a smirk.

Seri did not reply, only fixed those steely blue eyes on the man.

He chuckled lightly. "Well I'm highly offended, you seem to think Sukuna can't handle himself."

"Answer the question." She tried not to flinch as she heard more grunts and growls. Despite how angry Izumo sounded like, she could tell it wasn't an all-out war just yet. They were in "build-up stage" just now.

The feral screams and laughter lost their prominence, blurring into background noise, like music as she brought herself back to reality to thunderous violent irises, lips with one corner lifted up into a perfect smirk, hair cutting through air and the familiar silver of a flesh-piercing sword.

"Eyes on your partner!" His silky voice reprimanded her, and instinctively she corrected herself, like the good girl she always was. His lips curved upwards in what could only be described as a smile but she knew it wasn't, more like a sign of approval. He halted his advancement towards her. And like the teacher he was, his eyes spoke of pride as he observed the shock radiating from her. She may find passion within her yet. He twirled his sword around gracefully, slicing the air with various elegant movements before pointing it at her nonchalantly.

"Shall we dance?"

Normally Izumo let whoever he was fighting make the first move, sometimes it was like common courtesy. Allowing someone an "advantage" before they were ultimately defeated." That was the reason he let Seri attack first when they first met on the battlefield, but pretty soon he realized she didn't need the advantage and that he would be cutting it fine if he did give her one. So as the equals they were, he liked to think that they were on a good "charge at the same time, attack together" routine. However most times, it was to figure out how good of a fighter they were, funny how much you could find out about an opponent by the way they ran at you. But he had already decided go to hell with that strategy when he saw the kid man-handling Anna like that. He had pounced on the dickhead, one hand lifting the brat like a rag doll and the other pushing Anna out of harm's way. He brought his cigarette lighter to Sukuna's eyes. The bastard laughed like it was a game and he wasn't actually going to get burnt. The flame reflected in the teenager's grey eyes dangerously.

Seri's eyes honed in on the sword, mere inches away from her left eye. She didn't laugh, didn't betray any type of emotion on her physical form. That was, Yukari thought, if she had any. She flicked the wrist holding her own sword in a quick motion, aiming to disarm Yukari by slipping the tip of her sword into the handle of his and swinging it aside. However that wasn't the case as Yukari dodged the attack by pulling his sword aside, and gripped the offending wrist tightly with his hand. He felt the beginnings of an amused laugh erupting from his throat. Seri had been expecting it however, and with her free hand, she aimed a punch to the neck. He wasn't laughing anymore.

Sukuna's fist pushed painfully into Izumo's windpipe, the force of the punch forced it to contract, knocking the breath out of him. Izumo let go of the lighter as he stumbled back. Eyes dilated in fear he hadn't felt in ages, coughing wildly and heaving air down to his lungs. He barely registered his back pushing the bathroom door open, barely noticed Anna follow him, a hand held out to him to tug him back to her side…or the birth of a flame sitting in that very hand.

Yukari's hand was flat, palm upwards. It cradled the black hat which he had picked up from the marble ground after it had been cast aside when Seri punched him. He heard the door behind him swing open and the clumsy footfalls that followed. He felt a back collide with his own and saw in front of him, Seri's eyes widening for a fraction of a second before preparing to strike at him with her sword.

The stage is set, now let's add a little tragedy!

He tossed aside his black hat, it slid across the polished floor to halt at the other side of the vast room. Now with both hands free, he directed his arm underneath the crook of Izumo's shoulder and pushed it upwards while the other hand twisted the bartender's wrist. He then aimed a kick at Izumo's knees causing the tall blonde to loose his footing and fall onto the floor with a resolute thud. He noticed that Seri had stopped her advancement on him but didn't comment. He only turned around to where Sukuna was, battling with a winged Anna with fire in her hands, the silence of Seri and the groans of Izumo as his applause.

She felt a crack in her calm masked exterior. Izumo had released a cry of agony before collapsing onto the floor, clutching his shoulder and letting the blood from his torso seep into his formal attire. Something about that cry, something about how guttural it was, how it conveyed the pain of the man that released it snapped something in her. She collapsed to her knees by his side, and to hell with appearances, she hunched her back and didn't fix her clothing. All she could do was stare at this man. Izumo Kusangi. Izumo, who carried the burden of HOMRA on his shoulders with a flirtatious playful smirk and a cigarette between his fingers. Izumo who was always the calm, cool, collected voice of reason among his emotional passionate clan, who she could bare to have a conversation with without breaking something. Who didn't hold back when he first fought her, gave her a head-start, yes but the fighting afterwards was not him holding back, and for that she was very grateful. She felt so numb, her mind was blank except for the increasing number of no, no, no! Spiralling in her head. Her hands had somewhat limply came to rest on her lap, not bothering to try to cover up Izumo's wounds because he wasn't hurt! He is fine! He's okay…please god damnit, be okay! Her eyes had glazed over, refusing to process what she was seeing through her cold blue eyes.

She felt tears fall from her eyes, the moonlight seemed to want everyone to know that. Yes, Awashima is crying as it created an ethereal spotlight on her.

Fushimi's blue SCEPTER 4 issued coat flapped violently in the harsh wind. He was perched on the restaurant's balcony, watching the chaos unleash everywhere. Below him was his subordinates arresting various low-ranking green clansmen and trying pathetically to subdue the panicked wealthy people who had cascaded out of the large double doors and other fire escapes dotted around the building in frantic waves. He heard more than saw the red clansmen charging into battles with the greens, leaving almost none to the blue clansmen as they sated their blood lust which had been growing since they saw that horrible message sent by the greens mocking their beloved passed King, Mikoto Suoh. Among the fieriest was HOMRA's Vanguard, Misaki who was tearing through any one who so much as had a speck of green on their bodies (leaving more frightened rich people and a lot of unconscious bodies scattered around the grand entrance) with a prolonged scream of rage. Fushimi had to hold back laughter as he saw two couples shivering in the wind, stark naked. Actually, the entire situation below him was so comical he half heartedly wanted to sit back and watch the scene unfold or jump into the action or maybe just piss off Misaki. But it was the situation that was in front of him that made him want to stay.

The glass doors had swung open from the wind, the slightly transparent curtains were flapping relentlessly providing a loud enough noise that when Fushimi had first leaped from his position on the hotel's balcony opposite the restaurant to this balcony of aforementioned restaurant, no one had heard him. He watched the scene before him. He saw his Lieutenant crouched over Kusangi, hunched over while Izumo's blood pooled around her knees. Sukuna was engaged in an all out combat with Anna, swinging his axe around excitedly while Anna released a bombardment of fireballs to his body. Yukari was leaning on a wall watching the fight with a fond smile on his face while he sharpened his sword and nursed his bruised throat.

He twirled a knife between his fingers before bringing it back behind his back and hurling it into the room.

…

Fushimi was on his phone, aimlessly finishing random missions on games when he heard a outcry of rage, he looked up just in time to see Izumo's tall frame pounce on Sukuna Gojou and the door swing shut behind him. 30 minutes later when he was still watching the closed door with mild amusement and he saw Lieutenant Awashima stride in with her hand on her sword. She then suddenly seemed to halt and start talking to someone. He watched the silent one-sided conversation go on, until Yukari appeared. Then he sent a message to Akiyama, asking him to remain vigilant. He watched his superior give the two-colour man a swift punch in the neck and everything that ensued with light interest.

Until Izumo was dealt a harsh blow and was sent to the floor. What really caught his attention was his blonde superior's reaction. The woman had collapsed onto the floor with as much poise as a drunk. She had her back hunched over in what Fushimi could only describe as grief, except it couldn't be, because this was Awashima, she didn't…she wasn't emotional. His eyes had already dilated in lust at such a riveting performance but the fact she was just sitting idly by with her hands in her lap, not doing anything…it was delicious. That showed her true trauma, she couldn't even conjure up the brainpower to save him, she was in such a state of shock. And then the blood started pooling around her bare knees. God, she looked so serene! He was entranced by such raw pain, his eyes were focused solely on her that he saw the tears stream down her face, captured by the moonlight, beautiful! Fushimi took a sharp intake of breath, his eyes were almost completely dark, his breath came as a low breathy growl and he seemed to look more manic. To witness such a shatter in façade like that…to hell with his rules!

What would it be like I wonder? If I was to truly break her. In every. Way. Imaginable.

Munakata's number was already dialed. "Fushimi speaking." He spoke, trying to seem less lustful and somewhat succeeding, he didn't let Munakata answer, "I'll take the mission, I'll do it now."

There was a pause on the other side of the line making Fushimi want to growl in impatience.

"Have you got everything prepared?"

"Yes! Everything, I just need to do one last thing and I'm set."

He could practically hear the smirk in Munakata's next words. Bastard!

"Very well…traitor"

Author's Note

Thank you so much for your reviews and follows and faviroutes! They really made my day! Sorry it took so long, exams are horrible and now I can't even wing them like I used to. Also , I end up writing tons in one chapter because the thing that I wanted to reach (Seri's shatter) took so long to get to and I only ever write when I get the time. So updates are gonna be like this 4 month waiting period. Every. Single. Time. Without fail, okay! I tried really hard to iron out any grammatical errors but I have a gut feeling there are still a ton of them, so apologies in advance! But this is after you read it so...apologies afterwards? Anyway I hope you liked it and didn't totally get confused, my writing tends to be focused on "make the plot as dramatic as possible..." so it might all be very confusing! Sorry again!

Anyway...See you when I see you!