Chapter Text
Fushimi runs—he knows he’s late.
He clicks his tongue in irritation, cursing the crying sky as droplets of water clung to his glasses in attempt to blur his vision.
The dark haired teen felt the icy water splashing against his ankles as he stepped into puddle after puddle.
It was unfortunate indeed, for Fushimi to be dispatched to handle a hostage situation on his first day of work. And obviously, all teenagers love to skip school and participate in some life-threatening everyday situations (eg. Joining shady gangs and hanging out with equally shady people), don’t they?
And upon the sight of his new Chief, the senior inspector of Division One, Fushimi confirmed his suspicions of yet another shady person.
“Inspector Fushimi Saruhiko reporting for duty…” The raven raised a lazy hand in a somewhat uncomfortable salute as he greeted his superior with a stiff expression.
“Ah, Fushimi-kun I was expecting you. My apologies, but we are short on manpower tonight—it is unfortunate that I cannot welcome you with a perfect interrogation of your daily life, which I have done so to many other employees, and perhaps this is why their crime coefficient is rather unstable—”
This man is crazy.
“But worry not—today you will not be treated as an amateur,” Munakata Reisi, Chief inspector of the Public Safety Bureau adjusted the slim metal frames on the bridge of his nose with an elegant finger. “In fact, we might be needing some guns to shoot people.”
“Which will be fun, I guarantee.”
Fushimi’s brows furrowed involuntarily, and he couldn’t control the click of his tongue as his superior shot him a charming smile.
Talk about shady.
“Our target’s name is Ninja 2467381 and it is apparent that he can walk through walls and perform complex ninjutsu, which I am very sure you can handle, but beware for he is one of the greens, and this means greenery—which…which means trees.”
That escalated quickly.
“Very coincidentally, his recorded hue is forest green and this, therefore, suggests that Ninja 2467381 poses as a dangerous threat. We can’t send in any drones because he is green. In addition, we have multiple eye-witness accounts stating that he took someone captive while fleeing.”
“Ha?”
“According to the witness reports, it looked to be a blonde-haired man who resembled a rapper.”
“Ha—what?” Fushimi felt perfectly absurd in his own shoes.
But before he could utter another word of protest, there was a shrill sound of wailing sirens piercing the air, and a very, very shady looking van pulled up in front of the shelter.
One would call it cool and flashy—but Fushimi would call it shady.
A platform lowered, revealing a dark compartment.
There was a heavy slam as the platform hit the ground, and Fushimi stared as a couple of shady men exited the equally shady van.
He could hear the clink of their boots against the metal platform as they descended grandly—
“Fushimi-kun, please refrain from thinking that the men you are about to meet are humans like us.”
You are very much not human, thank you.
“Their Psycho-Pass crime coefficients have exceeded a specific value, simply put they are people of no character. In normal cases, they would be isolated as latent criminals, however, due to my outstanding benevolence, they are allowed into this world to serve the purpose of seeking out criminals just like themselves.”
A tall man with broad shoulders and a crimson mane stepped into the shelter, his lazy gaze sweeping past Fushimi without a care, and resting on the Chief himself. He lit a cigarette, as if bored.
“They are hunting dogs—beasts used to hunt beasts.”
There was a young girl in a gothic-red dress. Her silver-white hair flowed behind her back, straight. Her face expressionless as she descended the platform in classic Mary Janes.
A blonde in sunglasses followed suit. Why the tall, lanky adult was wearing shades at this time of a rainy day—Fushimi did not know. He nodded lightly at the Chief Inspector, flashing a charming smile comparable to a professional host.
“They’re what we call Enforcers, your subordinates.”
It was a teenager that caught Fushimi’s eye, obviously, because Fushimi has an eye for loud, dorky, short skateboarders who loved to wear beanies.
Who knows? Fushimi could have a beanie fetish and the world wouldn’t pick that up on his cranky face.
He clicked his tongue at the sight of the red head teenager entering the shelter—hence showing his affection.
It was, in simple terms, his mating call.
“Oh? So this is the guy you were talking about?” Yata Misaki cracked a smile, turning to Munakata before resting his gaze on Fushimi. “He’s kinda scowlful.”
“Misaki. That’s not a word,” The young girl commented lightly, fiddling with the red ribbon in her hair.
“E-Eh? It’s not? What does Mikoto-san think?” Yata sought help from his respected co-worker, only to be interrupted by the Chief himself.
Munakata Reisi cleared his throat, gaining everyone’s attention.
“Has everyone looked through the target’s data? It is crucial that I emphasize the target’s ability to walk through walls—it is absolutely amazing I must say—”
“Munakata,” A lazy drawl interrupted the Chief Inspector’s partly useless speech, and all eyes snapped towards Suoh Mikoto. “Not now.”
“Later,” He added, as if to sooth the vaguely disappointed bespectacled man.
Munakata couldn’t hide the excitement behind his glasses.
“Very well, we’ll divide into two teams—Suoh and Anna-kun, with me. Yata-kun and Kusanagi, please accompany Inspector Fushimi.”
“Roger.”
“Understood.”
“Nn.”
Basic summary of things: Fushimi shot Misaki with a non-lethal paralyzer. Kamamoto Rikio (apparent blonde who looked like a rapper) was saved. Shots were fired. Reports were demanded—of course, by Munakata Reisi.
And of course, Fushimi hates writing reports.
He wonders why he pulled the trigger on the teenager he obviously had the hots for.
He wonders why he did it on his first day.
He wonders about life.
Well—all teenagers do.
Fushimi decides to write the report back in Division One’s headquarters, and as he fills in the particulars, his keyboard crashes.
He curses the inanimate object, turning reluctantly to assess the situation of his fellow colleagues.
Enforcer Anna and Enforcer Kusanagi were the only ones present in the office.
Enforcer Anna was staring at a red jewel placed on her desk, as if willing for it to move—whilst Kusanagi flipped through a German catalogue featuring various types of bars.
“Uh…’scuse me…is there another tablet I could use…?” He mumbled stiffly, not expecting any rewarding answer in return.
In fact, Fushimi secretly hoped that there wouldn’t be any spare tablets, and this would be his excuse to the Chief for not completing his report.
“Well—think Yata-chan’s got them all at the moment,” Kusanagi replied without looking up from his catalogue.
Fushimi clicked his tongue.
“Which means there’s none. Great,” He rose from his seat, packing his bag. “Guess I’ll take my leave—”
“Why don’t you check on Misaki before you go?” Anna prompted curiously, staring at Fushimi through a ruby-red marble.
There was a slight grimace on the teenager’s face.
“Tch…”
Enforcer Anna stared.
“Ah fine,” Fushimi growled, giving in reluctantly. “Where do I go?”
“You can see Seri.”
“Seri?” The teenager raised an eyebrow, lost.
“Ah, Seri-chan? She’ll be at the control room. She would probably know how Yata’s doing. She knows practically everything; Even the size of my d—”
“Izumo,” Anna warned, turning a sharp eye.
“Dog,” Enforcer Kusanagi finished, laughed sheepishly. “Ahahan…is it bad she knows that?”
Anna frowned.
“Yes.”
“I’m…very, very sorry,” Says Fushimi as soon as he sees the red head open his eyes. The raven knows that his personality includes being bad at apologizing (he isn’t wrong) and so he puts on his nicest front, which simply included not clicking his tongue and not looking at the person he was speaking to.
Yata Misaki laughed lightly, waving a hand. “You don’t see many Inspectors who’d apologize to an Enforcer. Guess you’re a nice dude.”
Not really,
Fushimi disagreed silently,
I just don’t want to get fired.
And well…
Maybe I have the hots for you.
Just a little.
However, the teenager admitted that it was bizarre for someone to not be angry at what he did, especially the victim himself. Therefore—he figured that Yata was being sarcastic.
“Just say it if you’re angry,” He resorts to clicking his tongue, suddenly uneasy that anyone would hide their dislike towards him.
The bed-ridden frame shifted to rest his back on a cushion. “Angry? I’m not, actually.”
Yata grins, his usual cheeky smile that tended to blind the dark eyes of Fushimi. “It was your decision. I have no right to complain, or be angry.”
The raven frowns, unsure of what to say.
For once, he couldn’t think of a comeback. Indeed, it could be well said that Fushimi could handle dislike and orders and sneers and condescending remarks—but smiles;
That was something he didn’t know what to make of.
And so he clicked his tongue to express his affection;
And of course, Yata had no idea what it meant.
Yet.
“Wait, Fushimi you’re on duty again?” Enforcer Kusanagi muses, surprised as he catches a dark-haired teenager trudge through the automated doors of Division One’s office.
Anna watches with a blank expression.
“Tsk,” Was all Fushimi could say. It wouldn’t be long before Kusanagi and Anna think that he is actually verbally impaired.
Of course, the scowl on the teenagers face told him that despite the peaceful day of work, everything could go wrong. In addition to the raven's obvious inability to communicate with extremely normal humans like his handsome self; the unko (anko)-loving Seri; the quiet and harmless Anna; and the not-so-human Lion that resided in his den with another not-so-human Munakata Reisi, Kusanagi believed that Fushimi was very suited to be an Inspector.
Well, because being an Inspector obviously involved angsty heartless shipping—he meant shooting—and...and...well, just angsty heartless shooting in general.
Before Fushimi could click his tongue and express his affection for the absent Yata Misaki (cute beanie teen which he had the hots for, including the beanie, it was his fetish), the emergency alarm sounded throughout the headquarters, signalling the immediate required attention of Division one in area HOMORA 696969.
"What? Already?" Kusanagi sighed, feeling a headache coming on. "Who's on duty today?"
Fushimi scowled. "Didn't you just say that it was me—"
Out of the blue (or red rather, since it was a red head), Suoh Mikoto entered the office with the swish of the automatic doors, indicating his arrival.
Enforcer Kusanagi makes a peculiar sound, acknowledging his presence. "O, Mikoto, you're here."
"Nn."
"You gonna go?"
"Nn?"
"With the new guy. Fushi-sushi-mi."
"Nn..."
"He's on duty today."
"Nn..."
"Mm, good luck then," He shrugged, cracking a smile (he's just making a guess at what the red-head is saying, honestly, it's obvious. No one can understand what he's saying. Sometimes Suoh himself doesn't). "Don't get shot by sushimi!"
The teenager scowled once again, making the older Enforcer wonder how many types of scowls the kid actually has.
He wonders about Fushimi's scowls.
He wonders how Suoh can get ripped so easily.
He wonders about Yata's pair of headphones that seemed to be stuck to his neck.
He wonders how Munakata's glasses flash whenever he was talking about Ninjas.
He wonders about life.
He wonders about the size of Awashima's bust.
Nah, he doesn't have to.
He knows it already.
Suoh Mikoto was hungry. That was all that he knew.
In fact, that was practically the only thing that seemed to occupy his mind. 24/7. Not the elevated Area Stress of HOMORA 696969 at the moment; not the clicking tongue(s) (sometimes Fushimi clicks his tongues a thousand of times, resulting in everyone’s assumption that perhaps he has more than one tongue) of his new superior; not the fact that his cigarette box was empty—okay, yes he did care about that one, it might have been the cause of the problem all along but forget it.
The enforcer had so many problems he didn’t care for—he simply deemed that he had none. The antennas (feelers) attached to his messy mane of crimson hair made him a combination of a lion and an insect. The insect being in slight resemblance to a cockroach.
Fortunately for the unbelievably-hot-man-who-apparently-had-the-qualities-every-hot-man-would-have, his appearance that attracted much attention was masked by an adorable holo-droid suit that he donned during his undercover operation. Unfortunately, adorable wouldn't be the word one would use to describe Suoh Mikoto.
"So? Have you spotted him yet?" Fushimi asked in a grumble, getting slightly miffed by the "adorable" appearance he shared with his subordinate.
Cute wasn't his thing—but that didn't mean that Fushimi didn't like it.
After all, cute was a word to describe a certain red-head beanie dude.
Suoh let out a grunt, signalling the Inspector to follow him. "There."
"Where?"
"Nn."
"What?"
"Nn."
"Ha?"
The Enforcer sighed. "On right, behind the front column."
Inspector Fushimi's eyes widened for a brief moment before registering the distressed shadow not too far away. He frowned. "How can you be so sure? You haven't even used a scanner."
"A man can sniff out another man," Suoh smirked.
Wasn't it
"A beast can sniff out another beast" ?
Fushimi deadpanned.
Nevermind.
The pair approached the figure carefully, ensuring that he would not be alarmed by the confrontation. Well—not that anyone would be alarmed by two adults in kiddy suits. Imagine two teletubbies approaching you. Mm...not scary at all.
At the final moment, Fushimi began to notice that the figure was not another 'man' at all. It was a girl.
Indignant to correct his subordinate, Fushimi could not help but point out the gender mistake that Enforcer Suoh made.
The red head seemed perfectly amused by the statement. He raised a brow, as if to say: Ya think I care?
Of course he doesn't, right.
"Nn," Enforcer Suoh nudged the girl hiding behind the pillar, indicating his interest.
When the female made no move to acknowledge his acknowledgement, however, the man simply continued to gain her attention by nudging her.
"Nn."
"Nn...nn...nnnnnnn—"
"Oh for the sake of Awashima's bust can you stop 'nn'ing!" Inspector Fushimi decided that he had enough of this shit.
Suoh laughed lowly. "Nn—no."
Before Fushimi could burst into flaming rage, Suoh Mikoto turned to the girl and pressed the automatic button that voiced the usual request to measure one's Psycho-Pass.
"Ayye homo of homora, lemme measure ur Psy-pass ye?"
The Enforcer didn't seem to care what the voice was saying. He simply wanted to get the job over and done with.
Unfortunately for the red head, the girl seemed to be a tough nut to crack. In fact, she was practically nuts.
"Ore wa DAINANA O KENSHA, MUSHIKI NO OU—prepare to face the seven colors of the rainbow, the kings of the world, the seven kings of power, the seven seas of the seas, the seven gays of the gay, the generation of miracles!"
Simply put: Kukuri likes rainbows.
It was nearing dinner time back at the headquarters and Suoh Mikoto had just finished his shift, dealing with the Colorless King.
He ordered a plateful of meat (Nn *points*...Nn *nods*) and was about to sit at a random table when he spotted a dark-haired Inspector. Smirking to himself, he sauntered over.
The red head set his dinner tray across the Inspector's, giving a taunting leer as if to provoke him.
"Suoh Mikoto, what—may I ask—are you trying to do?" Inspector Munakata Reisi adjusts the slim metal frames on the bridge of his nose, giving the Enforcer a brief glance of suspicion before going back to his rice set. Suoh smirks, knowing that he had achieved his goal of disrupting his superior's usually calm and distant composure. He digs into his rare rib-eye steak, amber eyes refusing to leave Munakata's face.
He soon yields a successful reaction from the latter, who shot him a disapproving look of annoyance. "Keep your eyes to yourself, Enforcer."
Suoh snorts, feeding himself as he blatantly defied his superior's words by continuing to watch him eat. The Inspector knew (perfectly well) the intentions of the red head. And although he had always been an expert at keeping his calm demeanor from slipping, he soon realized after working with this particular Enforcer, that it wasn't the case with him.
How Suoh manages to do so, Munakata does not know. What he did know, however, was that the Enforcer's gaze was making him very uncomfortable; in the sense that it seemed to unravel him—wait.
Unravel? What was he thinking?
The red head noticed the look of perplexed confusion evident on his tablemate's face, and he raised a brow—amused. "Something wrong? Munakata."
The Inspector despised the smirk on the other's face, and he hoped that his miso soup and rice would be enough to block out the constant teasing and leering of his subordinate. Glaring daggers at the man opposite, Munakata pushed up his glasses with an elegant finger.
"Suoh, since your shallow mind has an apparent inability to understand the simplest words, I shall put forth in a straightforward manner; that if your eyes continue to wander anywhere near me, I'm afraid I'll have to ensure that—"
"Hmph," The red head mused shortly with a hint of a smile on his lips.
The raven refused to interact with his infuriating subordinate any longer, and resorted to pointing out his partner's empty plate. "It appears that you have finished your meal. Please bring your tray to the collection area immediately and return to your quarters, now."
Leaning closer to the Inspector as if to taunt, Suoh Mikoto cast a lazy gaze on the amethyst eyes that only glared. "Seems like I'm craving for...dessert."
The predatory smirk on the Enforcer's face hinted the unsaid words, leaving Munakata utterly infuriated, confused, and obviously fuming.
Not too far away; Kusanagi Izumo had his head in his hands, trying to figure out whether he should tell them to stay away from each other to avoid the sexual tension; or simply lock them up in a room to get it over and done with.
Simply put:
Just fucking kiss already.