The De Sade Complex

by Time Lordess

Fushimi is what someone may call a Masochist. A cruel sadistic man who revels in the pain of others. His lust for such pain must be sated every so often, this is where the crimes start. But they're never his colleagues, until he witnesses the grief of a woman thought to be heartless, for a man she seemingly didn't care for. The temptation is... palpable. Izumo/Seri Fushimi/Seri.

3. Chapter 3 - Stab in the Back

The De Sade Complex

Chapter Three – Stab in the Back

Misaki: Where the fuck are you?

Delivered -23:04

Misaki: The blue shit heads are worried, asshole!

Delivered -23:16

Misaki: Fucking Fushimi, you bastard

Delivered -23:23

Misaki: That lady is missing and Kusangi got screwed over

Delivered -23:47

Missed call: Misaki

Misaki: Pick up the goddamn phone, prick

Delivered -23:59

Misaki: Fucking Monkey!

Delivered -00:01

Misaki: For fucks sake, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GODDAMNIT!

Delivered -00:34

…

Fushimi felt the solid pressure of the blade leaves his fingers and brush past his fingerprints as he hurled them into the chaotic room ahead of him. Suddenly everything was more…sharper. Like his senses were alarmingly heightened. It was like being on a particularly impressive stimulant, he didn't know whether he was drunk on it or oppressed by it. He just knew that he could see the blades he had just thrown glint with the eerie pale brightness of the moon. That he could feel his windswept hair tickle the side of his neck irritatingly and hear the blood rushing through his body, heart beating so rapidly that he swore he could burst a vein. Or the sound of his breath leaving his mouth in short grey bursts of gas warming the winter cold. Fushimi found himself focusing on Yukari, Sukuna and Anna. He saw the green axe swish towards Anna at such a speed that you could still see the green even though it wasn't there anymore, seeing that scene filled him with a sense of dread he didn't know that he possessed. How could he be worried about Anna Kushina of all people? He saw Anna's hand glow with the red flame that had destroyed the life he once knew with a nostalgic smile that never actually reached his lips…because despite his hatred of the Red Clan, they had treated him like family and for that he was both furious and grateful. His eyes flitted over to Yukari, and was slightly shocked to see the purple haired man smirk at him knowingly, still sharpening his sword like the scene around him was relaxed and not completely chaotic.

That was when he catches the overwhelming aroma of fresh blood. Salty and familiar. He hears it splatter on the floor like wine.

Yukari abruptly stops sharpening his blade, his magenta eyes widen slightly in shock, and release his iron gaze on him. Fushimi catches himself grinning like a fool at that shocked face.

"Aaarrgghh!"

Fushimi tears his gaze away just in time to see Awashima's back arch perfectly away from him as the last knife enters her back and her hand grip her shoulder where one of blades rips through her shoulder bone. The blood sprays onto her perfectly made hair, it poisons her mouth with its metallic iron taste, dripping down the corner of her lips; it mixed with the dry tears decorating her cheeks. Her hands are painted with blood, like red paint on a blank canvas, it cakes her fingernails; it feels filthy. Dirty.

The thought of his superior, in a simple room with chains, forcing her to sit with a perfect posture and an arched back, her voice hoarse from screaming at him, or screaming for help and a heaving chest with his scarred marks of possession push into the fore front of his mind and it is more than he can take!

Awashima holds onto the blade embedded in her shoulder with shaking hands. She can feel it burning her skin, cutting her bone and slicing through the meat that is her muscles. She can feel her arm go slack with the pain and knows that she must pull the blade out quickly before she loses all remaining control over her arm. She tugs at the blade's handle, desperately trying to force it to leave the cosy cushioning of her skin. She feels a cry abrupt from her throat as the pain in her shoulder rises but clenches her teeth shut just before it escapes from her lips, she feels dizzy from the loss of blood. All Seri can think of, all that is swirling over her clouded mind is "I'm going to die here." The thought is so depressing, she wants to give up. But then she feels the blade wrenched from her skin and her shoulder is soothed with the feeling of numbness. Seri stares at her hands, incredulous as to how, how they had the strength to stop the pain when her mind had already accepted defeat.

Protect. Protect. Protect SCEPTER 4.

Protect Reisi Munakata. Protect…Protect Iz-

She hears the God forsaken blade clatter to the floor as she gives a final groan and collapses to the floor with a dull thud.

…

"Sushi?" Nagare Hisui asks, he waits for the answer with little interest.

"Yeah." Mr Iwa confirms as he closes the door to the little cosy room where JUNGLE operated. The boxes of fresh sushi rattled in the bags, filling the room with the aroma of raw fish.

"Someone's close then?" It was an unspoken tradition to serve sushi to anyone that made it to J-Rank, unfortunately the quality of sushi did not reflect the prestigiousness of the occasion. Nagare asked, though it was more of a statement than a question, his eyes scanned the hologram ahead of him for a player/clansmen with high mission accomplishment points, but turned up short.

"I can't find anyone."

Mr Iwa chuckled, he could tell the boy was annoyed that he couldn't spot the player he was looking for. Such things made the young King feel weak.

"The player has linked accounts with one of N-rank players, the one who we pay. Because she is a elite player, her name is highlighted on the map, the player you're looking for is next to her in a smaller box, like they are assisting her."

"They wouldn't be the rank they are if they was just assisting." Nagare pointed out.

"Nope! But their skills and abilities score them more points, also the hit woman appears to be transferring her points to the player..."

"Where is this player now?" Nagare questioned.

"Their last log in, 20 minutes ago was from the Bisha Hotel. They were just completing small on-device missions." Mr Iwa dismissed the question with a wave of his hand.

"Isn't that the one next to that big restaurant where Yukari and Sukuna are?"

"Yeah it is, they were notified to be a bait for the reds and blues but apparently they haven't completed it yet."

Nagare grinned.

"Slacker."

…

Thud. Clank.

Thud. Clank.

Thud. Clank.

Seri hears the footsteps from behind her, where the window is, where Fushimi was positioned. No doubt, he isn't there anymore, probably lodging in as many of those throwing knives he can into the enemy clan before someone stops him. She can hear something else accompanying the soft footfalls and thinks they must have something heavy with them, the image of a weapon enter her mind and she tries to get up with renewed vigor.

A sudden wave of nausea passes over her, she lifts her hands a fraction to cover her mouth from releasing the scorching acid rising up her throat but stops herself before anyone can see she is weaker then it seems already. But she cannot stop the pounding headache, it throbs so violently against her skull that she cannot hope to concentrate. Seri realizes she is sweating and shaking, her hands instinctively clench into fists so no one can see and wipes her forehead with those very same fisted heads. Accepting that she cannot get up if she doesn't want to faint, she shuffles towards the blond bartender, the impact of the knives pushed her away from him a bit but not a lot, though she still needs to be closer to properly protect him. As she places her arm across his chest in a defensive stance, she feels the same burning sensation of tears falling from her eyes because of Kusanagi's slow heart rate.

Dying. Dying. Dying!

A lump forms at her throat, constricting her air pipe so she can't breathe properly, she lets out an awful choking noise from within her that echoes loudly in her ears but can't reasonably be much louder than a particularly quiet sob. It's so fucking unfair. Her King is fighting a losing battle and she knows that at some point, she will have to raise a sword to that man and end his life and now, she is pathetically trying to protect her one source of stability from all the crap in her life. She wants to murder him, or punch him. Because how dare he? How dare he go fucking die on her when she still has use of him. He can go die for all she cares but only after all this has gone away and not any time before that. She briefly wanders about what the definition of "all this" is, is it the threat of the Green Clan? Or Munakata's coming demise? Or just her strange life amidst the world of Kings, Clans and Slates? But dismisses it as unimportant because the point is, is that she still needs to have a cocktail or hell, at this point, some shots filled with red bean paste. And she needs someone out of those blood-thirsty, good-for-nothing punks who dare call themselves a clan to actually have a civilized conversation when they eventually cause trouble for the Blue Clan. Awashima is suddenly bombarded with how much stability this bleeding mess of a man provides. She needs him because his open manner of speaking refreshes her so much when she spends days analyzing the ever articulate Munakata and his coded words, stressing over if the Captain is upset or happy, or stressed and can she do anything to help? She needs him as a guide for Fushimi, whom seems to despise doing anything she tells him to, she needs to hear the voice of a chuckling Izumo telling her to "not be so cold and commanding" because she's invoking his natural teenage instinct of rebellion to authority. She needs him to be the representation of HOMRA so she doesn't think they're all a group of thick-headed bastards whose King caused Munakata such stress and grief. She needs a person to insult thoroughly daily because her days are filled with trying to keep everyone in line that she is in no position to snap at everyone like she so dearly wants to.

She wants a lifeline to cling on to and Izumo Kusangi, second in command of HOMRA is the one who presented himself.

"Oh for fucks sake! He isn't even dead yet." Sukuna yells and it is then that Seri realises that it is alarmingly quiet in the room, Anna had appeared by Izumo's side, but stood a distance away from him as if she didn't want to hurt him. Turning her attention away from the youthful Red King, she looks up to see the boy glare at the man below her with rage and she immediately thinks that he is referring to her dramatic crying, and rapidly blinks away the liquid building up behind the dam of her eyelids.

Yukari notices this cover-up and chuckles lightly. "Oh Sukuna be more specific, now you've got her hiding her emotions again… What a shame, that performance was delightful!" He commented lightly, smiling at her.

"Like I give a shit." He swings his axe nonchalantly and Seri notices the venom in his voice when he delivers his next words, "Stupid point stealer."

His eyes are no longer staring intently at Kusangi but somewhere else, his axe is raised to point in that same direction and he looks to be in a defensive stance, in 2 seconds, that is all Seri can analyse from him when a burst of noise makes its way into her ears.

A laugh? Who the hell is laughing?

The chuckle rings in her ears and she whips her head to face the noise before her brain even formulates the thought that it's familiar. But nothing in her life is going well today and fate apparently wants to keep on that stupid godforsaken path, because she finds her vision blurred and clouded, black voids of empty darkness blinding bits of her surroundings. She can just about make the blurred outline of blue and purple, signifying the presence of a SCEPTRE 4 clansmen.

"Point stealer?" The male asks humourlessly, his words a question designed to degrade and belittle. All Awashima could think was He seems like an A-grade dickhead. Like her brain was pumping out thoughts at a slower rate, the precise rapidness it had adopted over the years had dissipated and she couldn't get to the conclusion she was trying to find, instead dealing with weird thoughts like this that were completely irrelevant.

"Get over yourself." The man drawled. His voice was so void of the mirth and glee it had possessed before it startled her so much she gasped; inhaling some of the blood bordering her mouth, choking on the vile taste of it as its lumpy mass forced its way down her oesophagus. His soft silky voice forced the final piece to click and she so dearly wished it hadn't. She wanted to go back to that blissfully ignorant state she was in before where, where-

Where Fushimi wasn't a traitor.

Her eyes widened in shock however aguish soon terminated that emotion but she wasn't very good at expressing emotion, even when it threatened to consume her. As such, she found herself rendered a mute, watching and thinking but unable to do anything more.

"What kind of idiot are you I wonder, to completely avoid the fact that Yukari stole your prized kill while you were-"Awashima heard him speak but it was going in one ear and out the other.

Fushimi? H-he has access to a JUNGLE account. He's been earning points? What rank would he be in now, is he J-Rank? How long has he been laughing at us? I knew Akiyama said he had an argument with Munakata after the greens took the slates but- I assumed that he had gotten over it, why else would he have accepted my request for him to watch over me? Wait, has he been planning this? He was getting a kick out of my unawareness wasn't he, the bastard!"

"-You think I stole your kill? Give me a break! It's called tact. I just can't believe you didn't see me standing outside but…what can you do?"

"Quit with the fucking lecture old man!" Sukuna muttered, scowling.

The blades that was him wasn't it? Shit! That fucking deadbeat, I knew giving him extra weapons would be a bad idea.

Her hands were in fists now, shaking with barely suppressed rage and her breaths came in harsh bursts. She couldn't control herself, couldn't control her emotions. She couldn't see anything clearly anymore. Everything was a hazy mess as her muddled mind tried to trudge through the information piling up around it, not looking, not understanding.

All she saw was red.

How ironic.

In a quick flash of white hot adrenaline, she forced herself to stand up on shaky legs and an even shakier mind to sprint towards the traitor with the knife he had used to disable her (wait, how did she get that?) in her clenched hands. She was screaming, or at least it felt like she was screaming, maybe she wasn't but really, who gives a shit? All she cared about was causing Fushimi so much pain he would regret ever making her cry, making her scream, making her fucking feel anything! She ran at him, her heels were her war drums. They announced her presence to her enemies; Fushimi had swiveled his head around, the smirk still glued into his head and his mouth still opened to speak words that would die in his lips.

The blades cut through the flesh of his abdomen, blood pouring out from the newly made wound and dripping down his blazer, it sprayed across his face, marring his finger-print less glasses with its crimson stain. Fushimi felt the knife lodge itself into his chest and he felt himself stumble backwards from the impact but quickly regained his footing. But none of that registered; unimportant in comparison to…her.

Her pain.

Her anger.

Her grief.

Lieutenant Awashima. Her palette of emotion was simply exquisite. He would make a hell of a feast out of her.

Fushimi acted out on a rush of carnal needs and desires. As he felt Seri rush past him (with the blade still pointed outwards as if she intended to injure the air next) he swiftly grabbed her wrist, using a lot more of his strength than he thought necessary to stop a broken woman's momentum. He felt Awashima buckle at his touch, perhaps she was really just as shattered as he had expected, and her feet unable to support her body and her knees shake uncontrollably, bending to crash to the floor below her. Except she couldn't. The grip on her wrist prevented her to properly fall onto her knees, she was suspended between standing and sitting, the tips of her toes meeting the floor while her heel was elevated from it, it was an excruciating position to wind up in, she feared that if she didn't die from a loss of blood when her arm eventually teared at the joint - so she could finally fall to the ground like she so wanted to – the lack of blood or anything to her hand (she could lose her hand too then).

His face was sickeningly close to her own, she felt she was being forced into confronting him and his betrayal too quickly then she wanted to. She suspected it was a coping mechanism to help her brain adjust to the influx of information but she swore she saw Fushimi's ice blue irises morph into the familiar grey steel of Captain Munakata. It calmed her down strangely, this man who earned a great deal of her respect was staring at her so unwaveringly with a smirk that spoke volumes when normally it did not. It told her to "get yourself together" she silently obeyed, feeling like the sea of her brain was becoming more still than the tidal waves it was before. But that was brought to a finish when she noted that Munakata was lecherously grinning at her, it was deformed and bizarre on her Captain's porcelain face. An abomination she would label it, but nevertheless she felt her calm shatter just as quickly as her mask of coldness (Damn Kusangi) and Munakata's face distort back into Fushimi.

She stared back at a face with black hair falling in front of it, tickling her cheeks and forehead with printless glasses. She thanked the heavens above she hadn't showed any signs of her hallucination but apparently her silence was enough to amuse if that nasty grin was anything to go by. He grabbed her chin, pinching it painfully between his thumb and forefinger. "I assume mine was the best."

He laughed, with the glee of someone who had just cracked a joke which erupted laughter from his audience and to congratulate himself on his achievement he should laugh twice as much and even more hysterically.

She spit on him.

Laughter was all that followed, he didn't even attempt to wipe off her saliva, like he wasn't that bothered. It was incredibly unnerving so she was almost thankful when she felt another towering presence behind her and the butt of a sword hit her squarely on the head, black swimming in her vision before consuming her whole. She fell to the darkness to the sound of manic laughter and Yukari's proud smile.

"I look forward to when I battle her again, with such passionate emotions finally emerging, I think it will be a rather entertaining battle of swords as well as tongues!" Yukari claimed as he hauled the dead weight of Seri over his shoulder like one would do to a bag. He wrapped his free hand - which wasn't steadying Awashima in her place atop his shoulder - around Fushimi in a gesture of camaraderie. Guiding him along with Sukuna at his front. Leaving behind a motionless Anna who had crouched over Izumo with not even the slightest care for the proceedings that went on in front of her and a stiller Izumo in their wake.

….

"Kusangi! Come on, stay with us!" Yata screamed as he skated past various streets to the hospital. His voice was strained and he was dripping in sweat, despite such a lanky appearance, Kusangi was unexpectedly heavy. So much so that Yata was hunching over while on his skateboard like a wilting flower.

Everyone was gathering inside the Second in Commands hospital room, the only sound heard emitting from the heart rate monitor, breaking the silence every second with steady but quiet beeps. Yata had been pushed out of the door and was now sitting outside on those uncomfortable blue seats bolted onto the walls, receiving frightened and judgemental glares from the hospitals occupants.

He had quickly informed Munakata of what Anna recalled of the events but that had a unclear ending, she finished it with "Kusangi screamed and fell, and there was a horrible red everywhere." So he was left to conclude that the cold lady from the blue clan had been kidnapped and…Fushimi, well apparently hide-and-seek is best enjoyed in the middle of a crisis. To which Munakata had "humphed" and closed the line. Uncaring idiot.

He flipped open his phone, if the monkey didn't want to know the consequences of his neglect in not protecting his clan and in turn Yata's, he had another thing coming.

Misaki: Where the fuck are you?

Delivered -23:04

He gave Fushimi time to read it, he was never one for looking at messages quickly anyway. Yata gave Fushimi the amount of time it took to get Anna back to the bar to sleep, return back to the hospital and get a coffee before the Blue's walked in, severely "concerned" for their Lieutenant if that was a way to describe it. Severely pissed was another way. It heightened when they discovered Fushimi was also missing, apparently their King kept that information from them.

Misaki: The blue shit heads are worried, asshole!

Delivered -23:16

The blue's were causing such a ruckus, trying to get information, it was pissing him off. Why wasn't he replying?

Misaki: Fucking Fushimi, you bastard

Delivered -23:23

He had just received news that Kusangi had gone into a intense coma and would need a long period of time to recover the damage done to him. His anger was projected on an apparently uncaring Saruhiko.

Misaki: That lady is missing and Kusangi got screwed over

Delivered -23:47

Maybe that piece of information would give Saruhiko more incentive to reply. He had always been a bit more open to Kusangi than anyone else in HOMRA besides himself and as for the blonde lady, he had to assume that he cared enough to be concerned.

Missed call: Misaki

Misaki: Pick up the goddamn phone, prick

Delivered -23:59

It was getting close to midnight and almost an entire hour since the first message, the life of a clansmen was always dangerous, they had to be on high alert, ready to attack at a moments notice or at least that's what Yata had learn, was the idiot just allowed to laze around in front of a computer all day, was that sword just decoration? Tch.

Misaki: Fucking Monkey!

Delivered -00:01

Downright pissed. What kind of a clansman was this brat? A shitty asshole-ish one!

Misaki: For fucks sake, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GODDAMNIT!

Delivered -00:34

He should just give up trying, its too much effort and quite frankly, he's too emotionally exhausted to deal with this type of shit.

….

Munakata still occupies his office even though it is ridiculously late in the night and he really should be retiring to bed right now. Still, these are just thoughts and won't be acted out any time soon. Instead he is fixated on his PDA, like he can somehow rewrite the conversation he had with HOMRA's Vanguard Misaki Yata. Fushimi has done his part of the deal and become a traitor going by his disappearance but he did not anticipate all of the factors, now Mr Kusangi is gravely injured and he has no idea of the whereabouts of his blonde Lieutenant. He thinks (hopes) that Fushimi has kidnapped her, aiming to give her valuable information concerning the Green Clan and then release her back to them. That way it won't look like Fushimi is a double agent and if Seri reports enough information, Fushimi might not even be in a position where he may have to sacrifice his life for the good of Japan, but it is nothing but a thought. He can't even call Fushimi right now, too much suspicion; he instructed him to keep his phone off or to not contact anyone while on the mission. He understands that, but he just needs to know, Munakata doesn't appreciate having pawns which he cannot see or move, he rather prefers to see the bigger picture instead of a segment of it. But it cannot be helped.

Munakata wanders if he should try to find a way to smuggle Seri's belongings to her via Fushimi but brushes off the idea in favour of who to hire as both Fushimi's and Seri's replacement. Perhaps that Zenjo fellow, the man from the previous Blue clan who killed the previous Red King in Kagutsu Crater incident. He will not replace Seri, but he will certainly provide as the perfect person to kill him if or when the time arrives and Awashima is not there. He'll assign people from the Intelligence Division to replace the work that Fushimi did filing reports. Hopefully that should be enough, it is only temporary…he hopes.

Munakata feels rather drained, as he does most days recently and stands up to leave, his sword by his hip and his glasses pocketed away. He wipes his sweat on his hair, messing it up further. He seriously hopes this is only temporary. But then again everything is temporary, truly speaking. His life is temporary. Ah well.

"I'll keep running till I reach my limit." He thinks that Mikoto might call him a hypocrite. Maybe he is in this case.

He wanders who will tell him to stop pursuing a pointless battle and to denounce his throne.

….

Awashima groggily opens her eyes to a comfy room (by comfy she means cramped) and the smell of sushi. She is lying on a filthy sofa and surrounded by greens. She remains collected, careful to not alert them. A weapon would be good, sadly none present themselves.

"She's up!" She hears a childlike voice yell from the side of her, she sees Sukuna lying on the floor beside the couch playing games but in a flash he is in front of her with an axe in her personal space, reflected in her eyes.

She was wrong, this is as good a weapon as any.

Grabbing the axe the only place she can, at the silver cutting edge, she wretches it from the boy. Fairly easy, he wasn't expecting her to attack from there. Her hand is bleeding and there is a nasty gash across it which will take ages to heal but she is armed. She has only enough time to take it up in an attacking stance before a sword is in front of her neck and she smells the scent of lavender shampoo.

"I don't think so, do you?" Yukari whispers behind her. He is smiling, they are all smiling. Sukuna with fish stuck between his teeth. How they must laugh at her. She doesn't take too kindly to that.

"How cliché, could you be anymore unoriginal." She ditches the idea of mimicking him but regardless, Yukari is offended which was her aim. Before he has time to refute, she is walking towards the brown door in front of her. Treading past various limbs sitting down munching on Sushi.

"Take me wherever you planned on locking me up." She commands, noticing that Nagare both has a look of disdain and approval.

Mr Iwa gets up to lead the way (Yukari by his side) with amusement in his eyes. But she can tell that she has the elders respect at least. Her dignity is restored. She sees him leaning next to the door with a slight grin gracing his thin lips, he readjusts his glasses; he had been laughing at her quietly. She doesn't look at him, in her mind, he is non-existent.

She takes good care to casually step on his toes with her heels as she walks out.

Mr Iwa opens the door to white she only describe as a limbo. There is nothing but vastly tall columns and everything is white and the space stretches on for an eternity, it is like nothing she has seen before. She follows him past the slates which she ignores. Yukari blocks her path to them with a smile on his lips. She stares defiantly back at him. Finally she is lead to a single grey room, it looks like a cell, made out of metal and a door with a slider to peer through. But it is generously spacious. It has a small single bed on one wall and an adjacent bathroom which in comparison to the room itself isn't that large. She walks in and hears the door close behind her with a bang.

5 minutes later she is balled up in the corner, all her rage at Fushimi has rapidly dissapated, in its place she feels the now familiar tears slide down her face because of his betrayal, as she succumbs to sleep and all its hellish nightmares.

Izumo dying,

screaming,

crying,

hurting,

DYING.

---

Author's Note:

Sorry for the wait...

I actually did have it finished like a month ago but the website decided to be hard on me and wouldn't load the document when I tried to upload it, then like 2 weeks after it loaded it but said the file was too big (which I don't get because I've uploaded files bigger than this so...) and then when I finally sorted that out, it said it was in the wrong format... *sigh* So that is my excuse.

Also be sure to let me know if I made any grammar mistakes because I don't have the best grammar, spelling or punctuation and it always leaves me on edge when I upload something. I give myself so many face-palms when I re-read my work AFTER I've uploaded it and find mistakes.