So... After who knows how long I actually wrote something! *gasp*

I TOTALLY fell in love with this series, as in REALLY hard LOOOVE despite all it's vagueness. And *totalSaruMifangirlalert!*

So, this is my first K Fanfic (yoroshiku onegai ishima~su ^^) and I'm a failed FluffAngstWangst type writer (for everything. =_=; )

Disclaimer: K goes to GoRa and GoHands ^^ I own nothing. Info about the Slate and King transformation is from K-Side:RED! (Awesome novel! Go read it :D)

Warning: erm... ^^; well, I guess the first and second parts of this chapter doesn't really connect but... errr... ^^;;

So, who's the new Red King? Cookies to those who guesses correctly! XDD (I suck... I really suck...) I got the idea from an entry in K's WMG page on TV Tropes. Couldn't let it go.

Anyways, Please Review if it isn't too much trouble XDD Hope you like it...? XDD

"Ne Kusanagi-san, what do you think…'ll happen to us from now on?" Yata Misaki asked in an uncharacteristically solemn tone, head tucked in between his arms on the counter of HOMRA's bar.

Kusanagi Izumo paused just as he was placing a wine bottle on the shelf, a small sigh escaping his lips. "No use ask'n me, Yata-chan" he replied, continuing his work. "I jus think t'd be nice if we could just stay like this fer now…"

It's been a good month since the Red King's, since Suoh Mikoto's death, and although HOMRA is still operating rather steadily under Kusanagi's lead, no one could deny the gaping hole left behind by two of the clan's most prominent figures.

When Mikoto died, the entire clan grieved.

And it was mostly Yata's single minded determination and loyalty that became the clan's pillar of support, to which Kusanagi was thankful for.

It was also the Crow's prowess in the front lines that gained them victory over enemies unfortunate enough to underestimate them in the time of grief; raising the clan's spirits, rekindling fires, and giving the members a ray of hope that, as Totsuka Tatara always used to say, things'll definitely work out.

It was this very effort that kept HOMRA's reputation stable despite the loss of their precious King.

But unrest never really left. Each and every one of them knew it…

Apparently, the clansmen still had the powers they received from the King despite the Marks disappearing, which meant Scepter 4 and the Golden King's involvement.

HOMRA itself was left alone for the most part, but the members could still feel the restriction placed upon them. The constant surveillance as though they were a group of rogue strains.

Infuriating as it is, they can't really deny it.

After all, a clan without a King can't really be called a Clan.

And what's more, the Clansmen were having second thoughts about how they'd take a new King when he comes.

Yata Misaki heaved a heavy sigh. "Fuckin' Blues, freakin' Gold" he mumbled, sitting up straighter when Kusanagi placed a plate of steaming curry in front of him.

"Stop worryin' too much, ya'll just hurt yer head. Ya have a job after this right? Eat." the blond ordered, picking up a rag to give the bar counter a once-over.

The teen complied. "But really though, Kusanagi-san" he began, swallowing a spoonful of curry. "It's becoming harder to move around lately. Call me paranoid but it almost feels like every freakin' camera in the city's zoomed in on me or something!" he ranted, decidedly more energetic than he was before.

Kusanagi cracked a smile, a random thought passing through his mind regarding that one sentence. One that involved a certain ex-member. He chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Yata grumbled, sounding almost like a pout. "It's freakin creepy" he claimed, stuffing a huge spoon of curry in his mouth. "…Ne, Kusanagi-san, I've been thinking" the Vanguard started again.

"Hmm?"

"We're the Red Clan right? The Third King's vassals?" the brunette continued. "I'd never want to serve another King apart from Mikoto-san but…." he trailed off.

Kusanagi understood what the teen was trying to say, and he gave him an affectionate pat on the head. "We're HOMRA, Yata-chan. HOMRA even before all this Red Clan business" he stated.

HOMRA wasn't just a clan; it's a home for lost boys seeking refuge from cruel reality, drawn in by the charisma of their 'King'.

Yes. HOMRA itself was an organization formed with Suoh Mikoto at its core –it was only by chance, a fate unseen –except maybe by a certain cheeky brunette- that that same Suoh Mikoto happened to become the actual 'Red King'.

"If a new Red King pops up, dependin' on whether he'd want to join us or not o'course…" the blond pointed out with a wink, running a hand through his hair. "…it'd still be up ta us to decide if he's worthy or not, right?"

Yata is silent for a while, processing the older's words…

He grinned. "YEAH! Who cares how many Red Kings come and go, HOMRA's one and only King is Mikoto-san!" he cheered, pumping a fist. "No Blood, No Bone, No ASH!"

And just like that, the brunette grabbed his skateboard and dashed straight out, but not before scuffing down all that's left on his plate.

The blond sighed a bit in exasperation as he watched the Vanguard go, a smile spreading on his lips. "Sure is energetic, that Yatagarasu"

That's what's decided, and that's exactly how they'd go about it.

~_*K – Project*_~

No one really knows when or how a King will be born.

All that is known is than the Dresden Plate chooses the King, granting him tremendous Powers as well as a heavy cross to carry.

A blessing and a curse.

Most of those that become Kings didn't really wish for that fate; the most prominent example being the now-former Red King, Suoh Mikoto.

Munakata Reisi, the Blue King, as well, didn't wish for his fate. He didn't wish for the Red King's fate either; but it was his responsibility as the one who was 'chosen', and so he upholds it.

The first thing he was told when he became the Blue King was the truth behind the Kagutsu crater; caused by the Red King's instability, unable to be prevented due to his own Predecessor's wavering heart.

He and Mikoto had been so close to following the exact same path…. had Reisi not have already resigned himself to that outcome.

And now that the Ashinaka incident was behind them, on top of the Kagutsu crater a decade before, he couldn't help but worry about the fate of whomever would receive the burden of becoming the next Red King.

Would history simply repeat itself?

Is it the Red King's fate to cause a catastrophe, and the Blue King's to prevent it?

Is there no way for the two to co-exist?

Reisi sighed, dropping the puzzle piece he was holding as he failed yet again to fit it in. It's been happening a lot lately.

He hadn't been able to complete a single puzzle since the Red King's fall, it was simply too draining.

A knock resounded on the door. "Captain, it's Fushimi"

"Enter"

The door opened, revealing Scepter 4's Third-in-command. Fushimi Saruhiko gave a polite albeit lax bow to his superior.

"I came to report the progress of the search for the rogue strain causing trouble down South. It appears he was a mere Common with a few tricks up his sleeve. We have him in the holding facility as we speak"

"I see… Good work" Reisi stated, though he was only half listening.

"Then I shall take my leave" the young official announced in monotone before turning around.

"Fushimi-kun…" he paused, looking back to his superior. Reisi's eyes were looking straight past him, to somewhere unknown. "What… do you think about the Red King?"

Fushimi did not understand, nor did he care. "About Mikoto-san?" he inquired, a near undetectable waver in his voice as he spoke the name.

"No... not just the Red King, but 'Kings' in general" the Blue King elaborated, his tone wistful.

"…" the younger official kept quiet for a moment, contemplating his answer. "A powerful, frightening… Pitiful… existence" he concluded, face and voice devoid of emotion.

Reisi gave a resigned smile, never lifting his eyes from the incomplete puzzle on his desk.

Fushimi Saruhiko quietly exited the room.

~_*K – Project*_~

Deep within the Gold King's lair, at the Heart of District 7, a pulse reverberated.

Kokujouji Daikaku watched in silence as warm light filtered out in gentle waves from the structure beneath his feet.

The Slate pulsed, releasing ripples of pure energy; once, twice, gaining speed and slowing down in a steady rhythm.

Similar to the beating of a heart.

Synchronizing.

The Blue King had taken ten years to be found; but now, not a month since the death of Three Kings, a new King is being selected.

"Really. Not even a warning…" the Golden King whispered, feeling the faint warmth that came with the pulse of Power.

One can never really tell whom can become King. There were no indications whatsoever; no age, no blood, not even the barest of characteristics despite the Red King's legend.

One can only guess. Only wait. Only watch.

"Who is it, I wonder...the new Third King"

~_*K – Project*_~

Thump.

He gasped, a hand clutching at his chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

He could feel his heart beat loudly under the palm of his hand. An irregular pattern, not quite his own.

Thump.

What is this? he thought, felling his knees weaken as the world around him began to blur. As if all that was anchoring him to reality suddenly vanished, leaving him in a state of semi-consciousness.

He felt light-headed.

Light. As if his soul had separated from his body.

Thump. The beating filled his ears, (No, it's within him, surrounding him, engulfing him) speeding up and slowing down, as if his heart was following a different rythm.

As if it was synchronizing with an unknown melody.

Synchronizing?

And then everything around him dissolved.

Is this...?

He looked around, floating listlessly in a sea of endless darkness...

He felt strangely at peace, as if nothing existed... he vaguely wondered if he was dead; or perhaps somewhere in between.

But then, dread filled his very being.

When it appeared before him.

No…

To anyone, it was just a thin slab of stone, intricately carved in circular, maze-like patterns.

Maybe something you would see in a museum somewhere.

But he knew exactly what it was, even without the aid of the information his subconscious was giving him.

This can't be happening... he groaned mentally. Clicking his non-existent tongue.

It seemed he still has the consciousness to think, with his cynicism intact.

Of all the people…? It's like winning a lottery just through your family register. And being ripped off at the same time.

Once again he felt it, the beating of his heart.

Or was it the pulse from the 'Slate'?

He knew it was both. His heartbeat synchronizing with the pulse, his soul merging with the 'Slate'.

The irony of his situation.

What could this mean? He wonders. What will it lead to?

An image flashed through his mind, and he smirked bitterly at his predicament.

Ah, that's right. He's here too isn't he?

The Irony.

Suddenly, he bit back a cry as Power in the form of white-hot magma surged within him, threatening to burn his very being with its intensity.

The Slate's 'memories', it's 'Will' flowing in through the cracks.

Burning a deep, beautiful Red through his muddled vision.

Ugh…

And just as it became all too much for him to handle, the pressure was released.

A pillar of light exploding into the sky, the color of crackling flames. A deep contrast to his own colour scheme.

He vaguely processed the fact that he was back in reality, standing on solid ground.

He would've laughed as he looked upwards.

Oh wait, he is laughing.

Watching as the pillar slowly disintegrated, revealing a gigantic metal structure in the shape of a cross, hanging precariously over his head, threatening to fall with even the slightest disturbance, foreshadowing a great catastrophe.

The Sword of Damocles.

The Birth of a King.

~_*K – Project*_

Yata Misaki couldn't believe it...

Not even as the truth lay bare before his eyes.

"Im... impossible" he choked out, barely standing up from the wave of pure energy before him, setting his surroundings ablaze.

He had been there to witness the transformation.

He felt the surge of power, the intense heat that nearly brought him to his knees, the literal Sword of Damocles that had been the Mark of his King's status now floating majestically above them...

He had seen it all.

But he just couldn't believe it.

...

And then came the laughter.

Maniacal, resigned, broken.

"What will you do now, Misaki?" he could only stand frozen as the name he hates so much left that guy's lips, a trace of mockery despite the obvious pain on his normally impassive face.

"S...Saru…hiko..."

Scepter 4's third in command grinned.

No, he can no longer be called a Blue Clansman at this point. Not with his new Status literally looming above his head.

"Mi-sa-kiii" he drawled out, stumbling backwards as overwhelming power swelled within him, leaking out, threatening to overflow. "Misaki. Misaki. Misaki. Misaki. Misaki. Misaki. Misaki. Misaki." He chanted out, curling up on himself even as the ground beneath his feet began to crumble, flares of red and misplaced blue erupting all around, setting everything around him in flames.

HOMRA's vanguard could only watch as the guy he once called his best friend crumpled to the ground, chanting out his name like a lifeline.

For the first time since the Transformation began, he took a step forward.

"DON'T COME NEAR ME!" Saruhiko screamed, desperately trying to keep the uncontrollable power within him.

In a moment of relief, he let loose a hoarse chuckle, looking up at the face of the one person that ever really mattered to him.

"Ne… Misa-ki…" he croaked out, observing as the other's face twisted, uncharacteristically silent. He grinned. "What'll you do…

"What'll you do... now that I've defiled the title of your precious Red King?"