K – Case Files of Blue v1c1

Case Files of Blue by Miyazawa Tatsuki
Chapter 1 (volume 1, pages 21-48)
The Guardians of Justice

Scepter 4.

An organization that single-handedly deals with the crimes super power holders, who got their powers from the Dresden Slate, commit and disturbances they cause in the country of j.a.pan.

The organization’s official cover was that of Annex 4 of Tokyo Legal Affairs Bureau, and with Munakata Reishi as its head, it systematically and with energy carried out the duty of maintaining public order day after day. It had many talented people in its ranks: Munakata Reishi himself, of course, but also the Lieutenant, Awashima Seri, Fushimi Saruhiko, mostly doing support and odd jobs work, and many others; their splendid work wasn’t the kind people would talk about for days on end, but it would not be an exaggeration to say that it was one of the mainstays supporting peace in the country.

The ones shouldering most of the burden were the elite force designated as the “Special Operations Squad”, mostly consisting of young men in their early twenties, on average.

Wielding their swords, mastered through rigorous and diligent training, and the supernatural power that had been awakened in them by the Blue King, Munakata Reishi, they upheld the duty of suppressing various crimes.

They were robust and handsome young men, each full of fresh youthful energy. The possessors of indomitable fighting spirit, they held the n.o.ble motive to protect this country’s “order” to heart and could face any enemy so long as they had Munakata Reishi’s order.

Appraising them, Munataka Reishi himself once commented, “I am glad to be surrounded by such hard workers.”

Today, too, was a busy day for the members of the Special Ops Squad as they worked intensively.

†

“Eh? "Archive E” was stolen from the “library”?!“ Hidaka Akira exclaimed without thinking, earning him a quiet reprimand from Enomoto Tatsuya, seated in front of him.

"Shhh! Hidaka, not so loud.” Putting a finger to his lips, Enomoto warned him with a stern expression on his features. He carefully and indiscreetly surveyed their surroundings and, making sure n.o.body was watching them, added with a grim face, “No one says it was stolen. The investigation is currently underway on the premise that it has been lost due to misplacement.” He folded his arms.

“Investigation, huh…” Hidaka looked perplexed.

Presently, they were in the dining hall of the dorm for Scepter 4 members. Having finished a difficult task, they were having late lunch; there were a few other troops here and there, sitting a few tables away from them.

Another member of the Special Ops Squad approached Hidaka and Enomoto, taking a seat at the same table as them. On his tray was kitsune udon - the item from today’s menu A.

First, he snapped his pair of splittable chopsticks in two, swallowed a mouthful of his noodles, and only then addressed the two. “Did you hear from Enomoto what happened, Hidaka?” he asked, turning to Hidaka. His voice was quiet so that the others around them wouldn’t hear him, but the tone itself was cutting.

Like Enomoto, this squadsman, named Fuse Daiki, also took this unforeseen situation quite seriously.

“Yeah, I heard. But I still don’t really get it… Ah, right! Who was the last "reader” to check it out? You’re keeping records, right, Eno?“
"Yes, I am. The last reader was number 1004.”
“Then that’s your—”
“Except, that person properly returned it. I verified it myself and there’s a corresponding record in the access control book.”
“…” Hidaka’s perplexity grew. After considering it for a few seconds, he asked, “Did you check with the other "members” registered with the “library”?“

Enomoto and Fuse both shook their heads simultaneously.

"No, the only ones in the know about this for now is you and number 1004. Seeing that the implications of this situation are pretty grave, I don’t want to sow unnecessary unrest among the other “members”,” Fuse replied.

Enomoto was a gla.s.ses wearing young man with mellow features and long black hair, while Fuse’s hair was lightly colored and the look in his eyes was razor sharp. Also, Enomoto was an otaku maniacally dedicated to his many hobbies, and if Fuse had to be characterized, he was more the type to take a shallow interest in a wide variety of things.

The two were almost the polar opposites, which made the fact that they shared a room and managed to get along decently all the more intriguing, relationships-wise.

Also, both were in charge of the “library” access control management.

“How many members are currently registered with the "library”?“
"That question conflicts with the "library”’s non-disclosure regulations.“
"Sorry, but with regards to our job there, we have the duty of confidentiality.”

Both Enomoto and Fuse flatly refused to answer Hidaka’s question.

Hidaka looked discouraged, “Gee, way to exagge–”

But, before Hidaka could finish, Enomoto cut in, “I think I’ll take the fingerprint collection kit and check the crime scene for fingerprints.”
“Good idea. Then I’ll ask around to see if anyone trespa.s.sed to our room. It’s unconfirmed for now, but there’s intel saying that Seri-chan has started her own investigation in regards to the "library” and “archive E”. This is looking more dicey by the minute.“
"I see. That’s serious indeed. Worst case scenario, we might need to consider locking down the "library”. We can’t let the contents of “archive E” be dragged into the light. Every gentleman’s honor is riding on this.“

Wearing impossibly serious faces, the two discussed possible measures.

Half-closing his eyes, Hidaka noisily slurped his miso soup, from today’s menu B. At first, he was taken aback, but this was getting progressively more ridiculous. ‘Aren’t these two more enthusiastic about this than about their actual work?’

To be completely frank and call things by their names, what the two were currently so worried about, wearing such grave looks on their faces, was, in fact, a stack of the jointly bought p.o.r.nographic magazines the two were in charge of safekeeping.

Dirty magazines abundant with "variety” were refered to as “archive E”, and the closet they were stashed in was called the “library”. The Special Ops Squad troops who chipped in to buy those mags were called “members” of the “library”. That was all there was to it.

And Hidaka had finally suddenly realized something, 'Ah, both Eno and Fuse are just having fun with this.’

They were just messing around, treating disappearance of p.o.r.no mags as a theft of some gravely important confidential diplomatic doc.u.ments.

Now that Hidaka was sure of his discovery, the stupidity of the situation only grew worse in his eyes, so he took his tray and left the table. Enomoto and Fuse didn’t notice him leaving, being too engrossed in a hot discussion about how to manage the “library” from now on.

'Still…’ Hidaka thought, carrying his tray loaded with now empty dishes to the rack for collecting used tableware, 'Even though I only chipped in because I kinda got taken by the mood, it’s still kinda sad that the mags are gone.’

The dirty magazine he started leafing through in Enomoto&Fuse’s room… The huge b.o.o.bed babe on the cover was surprisingly in his taste. 'I wish I could finish reading that one…’

The thought made Hidaka turn red in the face.

†

“Men are basically idiots, aren’t they?”

It was Yoshino Yayoi who made this straight to the point remark all of a sudden.

Awashima, in a workout gear consisting of a tank top and shorts, was in the middle of her training session using the fitness equipment, but stopped and looked in Yoshino’s direction, “Hm? Did you say something?”

Beads of sweat slid down her l.u.s.trous skin like gems. Her body was almost too shapely: legs long and slender, waist trim and b.r.e.a.s.t.s so voluptuous that there was no one who wouldn’t admire them.

Her body was so perfect that even Yayoi, despite being of the same gender, sometimes didn’t know where to look. And right now, Awashima Seri, the Lieutenant of Scepter 4, was heedlessly flaunting her a.s.sets for all to see.

Yoshino, on the other hand, wore a dark red track suit from her high school days. She was a general affairs clerk with plain features and big gla.s.ses. Both women had a day off today, so they decided to go work up a sweat in the training room of their dorm.

“I mean that matter you were talking about earlier, Awashima-san,” Yoshino explained, and Awashima, after a brief consideration, smiled wryly, “Ahh, about the "library” and “archive E”? They were using such big words for it, so I couldn’t help becoming curious and investigating a little, but in the end, it was just…“

It was just a stash of dirty mags bought jointly. Awashima took a hand towel from the railing near her and wiped her face. "So I decided not to dig into it any deeper. It would be too cruel.”

Yoshino sighed. “It was a bit of hard disillusioning for me, though. I was under the impression that the members of the Special Ops were tough and strait-laced guys.”
“…Yoshino-san,” Awashima smiled. “It’s better to leave men an escape route. There is no need to show them that we know their game. Men want to keep a secret or two from women that they can only share with other men, I imagine. It helps with the sense of solidarity, too. So it’s not necessarily all that bad a thing.”

“…” Yoshino looked at her senpai starry-eyed. “Awashima-san, you’re so mature, you know?”
“Me? Mature?” Awashima looked confused. “No, I don’t really think of myself as mature. I still have a lot of growing up to do.” She shook her head quietly.

Yoshino pouted jokingly. “It’s me still has all the growing up in the world to do, so if you ask me, as immature as I am, it’s precisely because you can think like that that you are, in fact, mature.”

The two women looked at each other and laughed. The atmosphere relaxed.

“But, well, calling them immature wouldn’t be wrong. Do mens’ behavioral principles even ever develop beyond the level of a middle schooler, I wonder?”
To that, Yoshino replied wishfully, “I hope at least Akiyama-san, Benzai-san and Kamo-san don’t partic.i.p.ate in that. They just don’t look like that kind of people to me.”
Awashima smiled slightly, “I think it’s safe to a.s.sume that those three really have nothing to do with that. Especially Kamo, who is a parent himself.”
“What about Zenjou-san?”
“He’s 100% not in it,” Awashima denied immediately.

Zenjou Gouki was a boorish man, currently in charge of File room, who also happened to be a one-armed master swordsman, and it was unthinkable for him to partic.i.p.ate in such school boy shenanigans.

“Hm,” Yoshino touched a finger to her chin. “Um, Awashima-san?”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Can I ask a bit of an odd question?” Yoshino inquired with mischievousness on her face. “What about the Captain? Do you think he reads that kind of, uh… naughty magazines?”
“…” Awashima was clearly lost for words.
Yoshino continued. “An ordinary man would have an interest in nude females, I think, but this is the Captain we’re talking about… How is it for him, what do you think?” She looked up at Awashima.

Awashima’s lips curved into a stiff smile as she took her time to think.

Then she drew a breath and, “I haven’t given that subject a thought until now. But well, if I had to answer…” She shook her head. “This is what I think: in the Captain’s case, it’s entirely possible that never once in his life he has so much as opened that kind of magazines or, alternatively, stores an entire thousand book collection of obscene materials in his room, and I won’t be surprised in the least in either case. Would this suffice as an answer?” Munakata Reishi’s right hand woman and Lieutenant, Awashima Seri, said with an even more strained smile.

†

“…Why did they have to keep them in the paper form, anyway?” Akiyama Himori asked with exasperation while driving. “These days, even stuff like that is digitized, no?”
“Well, aren’t you sounding knowledgeable about that sort of industry, huh, Akiyama?” Benzai Yuujirou, sitting in the pa.s.senger seat, let a chuckle slip.

The two were on their way back to HQ after paying visits to a court, Ministry of Finance and Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Transport in order.

Akiyama and Benzai were considered leaders even among the members of the Special Ops, so Munakata would often trust them with handling crucial matters almost as much as to Awashima and Fushimi. Akiyama had smart looks and the air of seriousness about him, and Benzai appeared to be of an even calmer and milder disposition than him.

Before joining Scepter 4, both of them were in military service, so their level of maturity was in sharp contrast with the other members who all had student background.

“Don’t joke like that, Benzai,” Akiyama gave him a wry smile.

Benzai heard the details pertaining to the “library” from Doumyouji and brought it up in his conversation with Akiyama.

“So Doumyouji is a “member” there, too?” Akiyama asked.
“Well, it looked like he was in it just out of curiousity. According to him, he wanted to have a ganger because dirty mags are pretty hard to come by, but they weren’t very interesting.”
“Well, sounds like him alright,” Akiyama chuckled. “But still,” he continued, reiterating his question from earlier, “why not get digital copies instead?”

Akiyama wasn’t made of stone either, so it wasn’t like he had never laid his eyes on that kind of magazines, but people of his generation were used to media being mostly digital. These days, paper printed books of that genre could probably only be found in second hand bookshops, and only after much searching.

Although there was hardly a shortage of supply channels with Enomoto and his wide knowledge of various kinds as one of the organizers, buying and storing paper books had to be more bothersome compared to their digital counterparts.

“Well…” Benzai made a slightly troubled grimace. “They started half on a whim themselves, I guess, but, uh…” His wordings became evasive, “There is the Captain to consider, you see… what if he watches, you know…”
“Ahh,” Akiyama made a noise of comprehension.

Quite a few rumors about the Blue King, Munakata Reishi, floated around. According to them, he slept only 1 hour a day. No, worse: he didn’t sleep at all. When he was little, he was so smart that a foreign Ministry of Information tried to headhunt him. He had 200 pairs of the same gla.s.ses. He was secretly married. When he was drunk, his blue aura turned pink. And actually, he liked pink more than blue. He could do a handstand on his left pinkie. The gla.s.ses were his real form, and when he took them off, his personality changed dramatically. Et cetera.

There probably were some truths mixed in, but for most part those rumors were either baseless idle talk or downright folk tales. Among them, there was this particular one, about how the Captain, by means of using his powers, had all the electronic equipment within Scepter 4 premises under his control.

To many members, that rumor looked very credible, probably because of how insightful and quick-witted the man in question was.

“I see. That’s why they chose the paper medium.”

So that Munakata wouldn’t see.

“Ridiculous.” Giving another lopsided smile, Akiyama shrugged his shoulders. “We’re not the Green clan, for goodness’ sake, and I heard nothing of the Captain having that kind of power. And even if he had, he doesn’t have that much free time on his hands.”
“I completely agree with you. But still…” Benzai, face becoming serious, looked at Akiyama. “There is no smoke without a fire. With that rumor so persistent and plausible-sounding, there has to be something up. I bet the others don’t really think it’s true either. But no one would be terribly surprised if he did have that kind of power, you know. And even if we asked the Captain directly, I’m sure he wouldn’t deny nor confirm it.”

“…” Akiyama looked to be deep in thought.

Benzai lowered his voice, as if afraid of something, “We’ve been working under the Captain for a long time now, but we still have no idea where that person sleeps or where his room even is, right?”

Akiyama said nothing and turned the steering wheel. Scepter 4′s HQ came into view.

Akiyama was silent.

From the long time they knew each other, Benzai understood that his silence meant reluctant agreement.

†

“Alrighty! I declare the third Captain’s bedroom hunt open!” Doumyouji Andy exclaimed and hoisted the black cat he held in hands up. “Soldier Kuro, are you ready?”

The black cat made a sound between “maw” and “naw”, twisted out of Doumyouji’s grasp and, bolting along the hallway, disappeared out of sight.

“Agh.” Doumyouji drooped his shoulders in disappointment, staring in the direction where the cat had just disappeared. “You’re not really interested in the Captain’s bedroom either, huh?”

Last month Doumyouji called out to Hidaka, Gotou, Fuse and Enomoto and formed “the Captain’s bedroom search party” with them. Since then, twice they went out on their days off to look around the dorm, the HQ premises and even the neighboring apartment complexes but in the end failed to find anything that resembled Munakata Reishi’s bedroom.

On the third time, which was now, even the usually easily persuaded Hidaka chose to get out of it, so Doumyouji decided to take at least the black cat living in Scepter 4’s dorm as his only other choice, but…

“Whatever. I’ll just go alone then,” Doumyouji said sulkily and started walking.

Now that he thought about it, even the first time around when Enomoto and the others had been with him, he had a feeling they didn’t try so much to seriously look for the Captain’s room as to just hang out strolling around together for fun.

Munakata Reishi didn’t rest. Nor did he sleep.

Everybody considered those rumors just a silly joke.

As to Doumyouji though… one couldn’t help being curious, no?

Something just seemed off to him, although he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

When that happened, Doumyouji usually just trusted his intuition and went into random action without really knowing what he was going to do. Having been born as the heir to the “Kouei style fencing dojo”, he displayed a prodigious talent in swordsmanship since childhood. As his father, who was also his master, put it once before, “It’s not like you altogether ignore swordsmanship learned by training, it’s just that your natural talent takes over way too much from the start. If you were weak because of that, I would forcefully correct it, but in such a talent lies the possibility that you can understand and master the way of sword better than I. That’s why you can remain the way you are.”

It was up to a debate whether or not Doumyouji understood the advice his father had given him the way it was meant, but starting that time, his tendency to do as he pleased became even more prominent, including but not limited to sword practice.

It wasn’t like he disliked making effort.

But from the beginning, he flat out refused to a.s.sociate with any convention or matter, regardless of the authority behind it, that didn’t agree with his perceptions, only laughing at it. He had the kind of easy and bright sublimity going beyond the worldliness about him that matched his clear and refreshing appearance. It stemmed from the child-like innocence peculiar to him, but at the same time for that exact reason people tended to find him just a touch flaky.

“Umm…” He stopped in his tracks suddenly, becoming thoughtful. “Come to think of it, till what room I checked it last time?”

Last time he left all the planning and stuff to Hidaka and the others.

“Oh well, I guess I’ll remember as I go. Probably,” he mumbled, not sounding very confident in himself, and started walking again.

Simply put, he was… a bit of an idiot. By social standards, that is.

†

At about the same time, Fushimi Saruhiko was finishing up paperwork in the office. Budget application forms, reports, receipts, permission requests, all kinds of data both on a.n.a.log and digital media surrounded him, and Fushimi secretly hated the practice of utilizing both.

'It makes it so much more troublesome,’ he thought to himself.

Still, being as wise as he was, he was well aware that keeping work-related records of an agency as peculiar as Scepter 4 in only the digital form was exceedingly risky.

There was always the possibility and numerous ways to erase data stored on HDDs or alter them via a hacking attack to consider.

Of course, something like paper could be destroyed by burning or ripping, too, not to mention it required considerable storage s.p.a.ce, that’s why until a medium that would be free of the vulnerabilities of either was developed, using both a.n.a.log and digital media simultaneously was maybe not the most convenient but the best presently available approach.

As to Fushimi himself though, he preferred dealing with electronics. Actually, when he felt like it, he could deal with everything via just his PDA and using no more than one of his hands even holed up in his room if it was digital data he was processing. He was only in the office right now in front of a pile of reports with a pen in his hand in order to match Scepter 4’s fashion of doing things.

He wasn’t the type to enjoy showing off how good he was at work, so he didn’t try to make his hand movements especially fast or sweepy, but still was checking and approving the doc.u.ments at a pace unimaginable for an ordinary person.

But at one point, his gaze suddenly stopped moving.

“That guy…”

A tongue click followed.

At the end of Fushimi’s gaze was a set of 3 doc.u.ments consisting of a report on a cash robbery case by a strain the other day, a letter of explanation and a damage report.

“What an idiot. How many times do I need to tell him not to use words like "kaboom” and “vroom” in official doc.u.ments for that birdbrain to finally get it through his thick skull!“ He slammed his fist on the table feebly, tone of voice a lot closer to grim lamentation than indignation. "It’s like trying to teach a chimpanzee. No, it’d be a lot easier with the chimpanzee. You’d be able to see some progress at least if nothing else,” Fushimi grumbled under his breath.

He cast a glance to the wall clock.

As Munakata’s official representative, he had a business trip scheduled. His destination was Los Angeles, in America. Taking into account the boarding time and the ride to the airport, he needed to get off the shift quickly and go pack up if he wanted to make it in time.

He didn’t have time to track down the idiot and sit him down to rewrite the papers. “No choice then.” He was going to be out of j.a.pan for two weeks, so he wanted to wrap up all the routine work before then, if possible. “Guess I’ll get a hold of Hidaka and make him deal with this,” Fushimi muttered with a sigh and, gathering up the papers, tapped them on the table a couple of times to put them in order.

That was when…

“Ah, huh?

The door to the office opened and, using Fushimi’s words, "the idiot who submitted ridiculous doc.u.ments” stuck his head through it all of a sudden.

Needless to say, Fushimi was momentarily shocked. 'What the h.e.l.l? Just as I was thinking about him, he turns up. Don’t tell me he actually realized his mishap and came here with the n.o.ble intention of fixing it?’

But, of course, that wasn’t the case.

Looking all around, Doumyouji asked something incomprehensible, “Does the Captain sleep in here?”
“Hah?” Fushimi couldn’t help making a stupefied noise.

Scratching his head, Doumyouji said, “Yeah, figures. Well, please excuse me. I searched in the wrong place.” With this, the head was retracted back behind the door.

Flabbergasted, Fushimi watched it withdraw, but then, “No, no, wait right there! You’re in the right place. Get back here this instance!” he called out and stood up.

He needed to catch the idiot no matter what and make him redo the papers.

†

Incidentally, if Doumyouji was often regarded as a genius precisely due to his freewheeling tendencies, Kamo Ryuuhou, a possible possessor of a talent comparable to Doumyouji’s, in contrast, was treated as a serious and understanding wordly-wise man, disposition and personal circ.u.mstances-wise.

His background was remarkably odd.

For you see, he was a former chef.

Before the formation of the Special Ops Squad, when he first met Akiyama, a former national defense force member, the latter, with a serious face, asked him 3 whole times to repeat what he said about his previous line of work. Akiyama probably thought that he had misheard it. Why would a chef suddenly put on a uniform and take up the duty of protecting public order in the country?

Truth be told, the one most amazed with this kind of job change was none other than Kamo himself.

Why was he working at such a place side by side with former soldiers and dojo heirs?

The leap between this and his previous occupation was just too big to write it off as hapless fate. Moreover, among the Special Ops, he was the only member to have been married before. He was sure that if nothing had happened, he would have still been standing in the kitchen as a chef.

But, due to a number of reasons, he divorced his wife, parted with his daughter, had the house and the shop taken away from him for the debt he had undertaken out of moral obligation, and on his shop’s last working day before going out of business, Munakata unexpectedly showed up there and recruited him for Scepter 4. At that time, Munakata said, “From now on, you will take up a saber in place of a sushi knife, and in place of a signboard you will fly justice.”

The man looked just a little triumphant as though he was proud to come up with those words. That att.i.tude was somewhat suspicious, but, for some mysterious reason, Kamo knew for a fact that the person in front of him wasn’t lying.

Since then, Kamo had been displaying that earnest seriousness of his amply by executing his duties professionally. As a result, he had cleared most of his debt by now.

But what was probably the most amazing about the whole thing was that just like Akiyama and Benzai, who had chosen military service as their career, and Doumyouji, who had been swinging a sword for as long as he could remember, Kamo also served as a platoon leader in the Special Ops predecessor corps. Sure, he dabbled in kendo in his student days, but that alone couldn’t explain the characteristic that Zenjou, the master swordsman, had given him, “He needs to be careful as to not get ahead of himself, but out of them all, he’s the most useful.”

That’s how immensely talented he was.

Furthermore, he also possessed a strong desire to constantly improve.

So today again Kamo was in the dojo, making use of the downtime and working up a sweat.

'Swordplay practice is the same as a chef’s pursuit of knowledge. You can only grip your tool tightly until eventually a new and different horizon comes in sight.’ He kept swinging his bamboo sword, while turning this Munakata-influenced thought in his head.

That moment was when another member of the Special Ops squad and Hidaka’s roommate, Gotou Ren, chose to make his sudden entrance.

He was wearing a ventriloquist puppet on his hand.

“…Is Doumyouji here?” he asked through the puppet in a high-pitched voice.

Kamo lowered the bamboo sword, leaned it again the wall and took a towel. Wiping off the sweat and catching his breath, he answered, “No, he didn’t come here.” Only after that he ventured, “What is that puppet?”
“Mnn. I’m walking him. You said you wanted to take a stroll, right, Gorou-chan? Yup! I love taking strolls!”

As Gotou moved the puppet’s mouth, it became very obvious that he was positively no good at ventriloquism. Sweat of a very different kind welled up on Kamo’s brow. “Is that so?” For a moment, Kamo considered his options.

Gotou burst out laughing, “Please don’t be freaking out so much. I’m planning to show this trick to Hidaka soon, so I just wanted to practice a little.”
“I’m not freaking out.”
“But you consider me a weirdo, no?”
“Well, maybe.”
“Nfufu!”

Kamo found himself also showing a little strained smile in response. “What did you want with Doumyouji?”
“Well, Doumyouji-san invited me for a walk, so I thought I’d take him up on his offer, but he wasn’t at the place where we were supposed to meet up.” Gotou inclined his head. “I’ll go look for him elsewhere. I apologize for disturbing your practice,” he said, making his puppet bow as well, and left.

Kamo watched him go. “…We have quite a few oddb.a.l.l.s in our ranks, huh.”

He remembered the time when he managed his small joint all by himself. Right now, he did his work together with comrades.

It wasn’t like he had completely given up on making a living with his cooking, but all things considered, the life Kamo was leading now wasn’t bad either. So he took his present circ.u.mstances in a positive way.

“Let’s work up some more sweat then,” he murmured to himself and went to get the bamboo sword he left next to the wall.

†

Having caught the very reluctant Doumyouji and forced him to redo his report, Fushimi Saruhiko still had just barely enough time to make it to the airport on schedule.

Walking the premises of Scepter 4 at a quick pace, he found his eyes drawn to the nearby building. On the second floor of it, there was the office of the Blue King, Munakata Reishi.

Come to think of it, Fushimi was leaving without saying his goodbyes to him, was it really OK like this?

He smiled crookedly.

On second thought, he didn’t have much to say to that superior of his outside work-related matters. A sarcastic remark like, “Well, I’m off to do the work you found too much of a ha.s.sle to do yourself,” was probably the most he could manage.

Still, perhaps, there wasn’t exactly much choice regarding the personal selection for this particular mission. There simply wasn’t anyone else except Fushimi at Scepter 4 who could boast mastery of English comparable to Munakata’s. Awashima had no problem maintaining a daily life conversation, but she didn’t feel nearly as confident when it came to negotiations, deeply involving politics.

'Then again, reading and writing aside, I’m not all that good at conversational English myself either.’

But there was something that bothered Fushimi even more than that. It was just a rumor, but it seemed a few leaders of the Red clan, Homura, were planning to go to America.

Fushimi didn’t know why or when they were going there.

'I just hope to G.o.d he’s not among the members.’

Fushimi’s ex-cla.s.smate and roommate. A memory of a sharp-eyed boy he was in the same clan with previously surfaced in his mind.

“Hmph.” A flash of mixed feelings tinged his eyes. “Nah, it can’t be.”

That guy wouldn’t be able to handle going to a foreign country without becoming a pathetic confused mess. When Fushimi imagined him, completely fl.u.s.tered, trying to strike up a conversation with a foreign girl, his shoulders shook slightly.

Adjusting the travel bag of simple design on his shoulder, Fushimi quickened his steps. Perhaps, he needed to hurry up a bit more if he wanted to board that plane.

†

The personification of the great cause and justice, the leader of Scepter 4 and the king of the Blue clan.

That supreme being, standing above all the troops, was currently in his office, a single greeting card held between his fingers.

Sitting in a leather chair, legs crossed and left elbow on the ma.s.sive table, chin leaned on the heel of his left hand, he played with the blue card in the fingers of his right.

“Just how on earth am I supposed to interpret this?” He let a genuinely amused smile curve his lips.

On the card, a single sentence was written, “I love you so very much.”

The disappearance of dirty magazines. And the love letter from an unknown sender addressed to Munakata Reishi.

These two bizarre happenstances, tied together by the invisible string of fate, would soon expand into a case that would shake Scepter 4 to the core…

But Munakata Reishi didn’t know that yet.