Author's Note: Firstly, this story takes place a few years after the events of class 3-E. Secondly, it carries a lot of heavy warnings, up to and including: violence, murder, blood spatter, torture, non-con sexual advances and sex-so basically the whole lot. So consider this your trigger warning for these things. Also, this will eventually be a slash fic., so if that isn't your cup of tea, then you might want to hit the back button now. And thirdly, I don't own these characters or anything (as per the usual disclaimer).

"Rhapsody in Electric Blue"

Chapter 1:

Business as Usual

The area around Kensington in London was outfitted with posh shops, their highly reflective windows polished to an almost golden sheen. Parks and green spaces were also in abundance, and visitors and locals alike could be seen lounging around like sunning lizards in the soft, comforting grass. Cafes that brought to mind words like 'quirky' and 'charming' and 'hip' lined the district's sidewalks, each promising the perfect culinary experience. People with trendy clothes and glossy rainbow colored hair like brilliant exotic birds promenaded the Broad Walk and the surrounding sidewalks, swinging shopping bags with names like Gucci and Prada and Armani emblazoned on the side. Double decker buses zipped by and black cabs dotted the roadways like marching ants, bringing even more kinetic energy to the scene. London was certainly a busy, noisy place, and not exactly one that encouraged ambling or moseying or any other kind of slow, unhurried tread. Yet amble is exactly what Karma did, walking at a leisurely pace from Kensington High Street station, through the shopping district, over to the gardens and into the parks. With his hands shoved deep in his pockets he strolled quietly along, while others careened around him like schools of fast moving fish, breaking around him like he was a rock stuck in the middle of a rolling stream. Karma didn't mind though. He liked being still in the middle of all the frenzy. It gave him time to take in his new surroundings; gave him time to think. Well, probably too much time to think, but that was a whole other problem.

His parents had been delighted when Karma had finally started to show some interest in their day trading business. When he had offered to come to London in their place to meet with a new client, they had seemed relieved, and he knew what they had both been thinking: Finally, he's starting to come around. Maybe he's gotten over all of that silly, youthful optimism and will finally take over the family business and settle down and maybe even start his own family. He knew that's what his parents thought; he knew that's what they wanted, but it was far from the truth. He had only volunteered to come to London because frankly, he was bored. He was bored with his studies at university. He was bored with his life in Japan. He was bored with his own lack of ambition. And most of all, he was bored by the thought of talking stocks for several hours with one of his parents' numerous clients. Boredom, it seemed, was the main condition of Karma's life. Or at least that's the way it had been for him ever since he'd left behind regular school and the notorious class of 3-E.

If your younger self could see you now, he would berate you for your stupid complacency and probably punch you in the face, Karma thought to himself as he strolled through the open fields of Hyde Park.

Karma wasn't sure what had happened to him. Was it simply the unopposed march of time? A hard dose of reality? The doldrums of modern life? He had been such a hellion back in school. So utterly rebellious, marching to the beat of his own sadistic, violent drum. He had been smart, too, without the need to study much or try very hard. He had also been a fighter, probably the best in his class (and that was saying something, considering the class). That version of Karma had been vibrant and creative and full of life. So full of promise. And what was he now? A directionless poly-sci major with little to no interest in his family's business. He was a shade of his former self. The glory of school and the class of 3-E was long behind him. The excitement was gone. It was over. And now Karma was left standing in the middle of a park in the city of London, staring at the pigeons by the water, meandering towards a business meeting he had absolutely no interest in.

Ah, but that's real life, isn't it? whispered a treacherous voice inside his head. Pointless meetings, ass kissing, dull social contacts. That's real life, and you had better get used to it.

But what if he didn't want to get used to it?

Sighing to himself, Karma walked along the Serpentine, heading in the vague direction of the Park City hotel, the place where he was supposed to meet the client. Another nondescript hotel lounge in another nondescript hotel bar in another city full of nondescript hotels. Karma ambled along, unhurriedly, looking as forward to this meeting as he would an execution. Scratch that, thought Karma. I would rather have the execution.

Because that, at least, would be exciting.

Karma left the park, crossing numerous busy streets until he found his meeting place. He entered the Park City hotel's lounge right at five o'clock. His client, a Mr. Victor Albertson, was already seated in one of the high back chairs at a small, round table. Karma walked by a wall covered with wooden panels etched with cherry blossoms, their thin, skeletal branches forming a spider web behind his head. He went over to the table and introduced himself, shaking the man's hand. Karma made note of the two men in dark suits standing close, but not too close, just behind Mr. Albertson. So, bodyguards then. This client must be someone important indeed, thought Karma as he took the chair across from Albertson. Karma picked up a menu, looking at all the drinks that were available. Deciding he needed something strong to get him through this, he signaled a passing waitress and ordered a rum and Coke. Karma, still staring at the menu, didn't notice his client's attention being drawn to something just over his left shoulder. Something just out of his line of sight.

Something with a flash of blue…

Nagisa Shiota entered the Park City hotel lounge just after five o'clock. He was dressed entirely in black leather and carrying a motorcycle helmet, his electric blue hair done up in a high ponytail. His eyes were rimmed black with kohl, making their deep azure color stand out like bright neon against the moon-like pallor of his face. Between his blue hair and black leather outfit and hip swinging walk, everything about Nagisa assured that every man's gaze was fixed upon him as he strolled across the lounge and over to the bar, setting his helmet down on its shiny surface with a heavy clunk! He leaned far across the bar, his pose purposefully and perfectly accentuating his best assets, as he stared up into the lounge's long wall mirror at the man seated at a small table just behind him. He caught the man's eye and Nagisa smiled at him, a smile that managed to be both innocent and inviting yet utterly predatory all at once. Nagisa sat down on a stool and waited patiently until a drink-also colored electric blue-was inevitably plunked down in front of him. "Compliments of the gentleman in the brown suit," the bartender recited dully. Nagisa looked up in the mirror and winked at the older man, saluting him with his drink before taking a long swallow. A few moments later a ball of static screeched into life by Nagisa's ear. A familiar feminine voice then said:

"Well, are you in or not?"

"Calm down, Irina, I just hit the bar," whispered Nagisa. "Albertson is sitting at a table right behind me. I got eyes on him right now."

"I'm sorry, Nagisa; it really should be me in there, but Albertson likes them young. And I mean reaaaaally young-"

"-and you're what? Washed up at the ripe old age of twenty-five?" Nagisa snickered. "Don't sweat it, Irina. I got this-"

"-just remember what I told you about Albertson, once you get his attention-"

"-I already have his attention. He's in some sort of business meeting, but he's done nothing but stare at my ass since the moment I walked in here. And he just sent me over a drink." Nagisa took another swallow and grimaced. "A really shitty drink," he added.

"That's my boy," said Irina. "I knew that Dior eyeliner would look great on you-"

"-he's not looking at my eyeliner," Nagisa said through gritted teeth. He got off the stool and purposefully leaned across the bar, snagging a napkin, the movement drawing Albertson's gaze to his tight, leather clad backside like a puppet on a string. "Yup, he's definitely not looking at my eyeliner," Nagisa muttered.

"Whatever, you're the total package. Haven't I taught you well?"

"Yes, you have, sensei," replied Nagisa, staring up at himself-his almost unrecognizable feminine self-in the bar's mirror. "Say, after I'm done here, you wanna go get fish and chips at the Black Friar?"

"I would love to, but I already have a previous engagement-"

Nagisa grinned. "-so you're going out with Karasuma tonight? I didn't know he was in town-"

"-why do you assume it's Karasuma, I didn't say-"

"-it was your tone. You go all giggly school girl whenever you mention him-"

"-I do not!-"

"-it's totally cute, though! So when are you two going to set a date-"

There was an audible groan through Nagisa's earpiece. "-I can't decide! Do you think a spring wedding is too cliched? Or maybe summer? Gah-planning a wedding is too stressful-"

"-more stressful than planning an assa-I mean, a job?"

"Waaaay more stressful," confirmed Irina. "Just you wait. If you ever get into a relationship, you'll see. Assassinations are a cakewalk compared to this. Speaking of which, are you seeing anybo-

"-No. You know the answer is no. The answer is always no. I can't be in a relationship and do...this." Nagisa's eyes slid to the bar's surface, a dejected look overtaking his face.

"-why not? Me and Karasuma have managed-"

"That's because you're both assa-er, are in the same line of work," Nagisa once again corrected himself. "I can't date a normal person-"

"-so don't date a 'normal person'. Date an abnormal person-"

"-thanks for the advice, Miss Bitch, but no thanks-"

"-Tch! There you go again, getting mad at me for no reason. You always call me that when you're upset-"

"-I'm not upset. I just don't want to talk about my private life-or complete lack thereof-anymore," Nagisa answered sulkily. He let his words trail off as he noticed his mark rising from the table behind him. He watched as Albertson, his two bodyguards and another man with red hair walked across the lounge to the hotel's elevator. Nagisa stood up from his stool.

"I'm out, Irina. Albertson's on the move." Nagisa took one last swallow of his drink, picking up his helmet.

"Which means now I'm on the move, too..."