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The first time Awashima sees Munakata in the midst of an uncontrollable flare-up of his powers, she does the first thing she can think of, which is to splash him with the cup of coffee that she’s currently holding.
It works, if only because Munakata is so startled by it that it knocks him out of whatever funk he’d found himself in to begin with.
“Sorry!” Awashima gasps. She frantically mops up the mess with some nearby napkins before it can ruin too many of the papers on Munakata’s desk.
“That’s alright,” Munakata says mildly, even as coffee drips from his hair and clothes. “Really, I should be thanking you for your help. It was proving to be particularly difficult this time.”
Aghast, Awashima asks, “Has this happened before?”
“Hm, once or twice,” Munakata says. “They usually pass fairly quickly though.”
“This doesn’t seem healthy,” Awashima says. Structural damage aside, she can’t imagine it’s very pleasant to lose control like that. “Shall I reach out to the Gold clan, to see if they have any advice?”
Munakata shakes his head, causing a few drops of coffee to splatter onto his desk. “I would prefer to handle this in-house, as it were,” he says, and Awashima takes that as the dismissal that it sounds like.
The second time it happens, she sprays him down with the restaurant’s fire extinguisher.
After the third time in as many weeks that Awashima finds Munakata about to burn down the restaurant, she makes a suggestion. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this,” she starts, “but if we’re not going to go to the Gold clan, I had some other ideas for how we could manage this.”
She lays a sheaf of papers down on Munakata’s desk. “These are the best-rated therapists in the area. Your control over your powers is tied to your emotions, right? So maybe working with a professional could help.”
“I appreciate the suggestion,” Munakata says, “but I’m not sure it would be wise to bring civilians into this.”
“You wouldn’t need to tell them anything Slate-related,” Awashima replies. “Just say you’re having panic attacks, or whatever diagnosis seems closest.”
Munakata still looks unconvinced.
“Or,” Awashima offers, “we could look into extending the restaurant’s sprinkler system into your office.”
Munakata glances up at the ceiling and winces, presumably thinking about the water that’s sat unmoving in the sprinkler system for who knows how many years. The cleanup would be significantly worse than that initial coffee incident.
“I’ll look them over and make an appointment,” Munakata says.
“I encourage all of my clansmen to have gainful employment,” Munakata says to his newest clansman. “Beyond just being members of HOMRA, of course.”
“Why?” Fushimi asks suspiciously. He’s sitting slouched in a chair opposite Munakata’s office desk, and although his body language reads as bored, he keeps glancing furtively around him as though he expects Lieutenant Kusanagi to appear out of nowhere and press-gang him back into SCEPTER 4. “What, is this some kind of tithe, to leech off of our incomes? You’re that kind of King?”
“No, I have my own money,” Munakata says. “It’s mainly so you lot aren’t just sitting around all day waiting for someone to pick a fight.”
“Sounds familiar,” Fushimi mutters under his breath.
Munakata ignores that. “I understand you joined SCEPTER 4 straight out of middle school, is that correct?”
Fushimi bristles a little. “Yeah, and?”
“If you’re not comfortable with getting a job, you may also want to consider continuing with your education,” Munakata continues. “So if you want to attend high school, we can certainly assist in making that happen.”
Rolling his eyes, Fushimi says, “If I wanted to wear a uniform and have people dumber than me tell me what to do, I’d—”
“You’d have stayed in SCEPTER 4,” Munakata finishes. “Yes, you’ve said something to that effect several times already.”
Fushimi seems caught off-guard by Munakata anticipating his retort. Munakata figures it’s probably good for him.
“But if you’re not interested in school, then perhaps a job is the right move for you after all,” Munakata continues. “If you’d like to work at the restaurant, we could always use a busboy—”
“Absolutely not,” Fushimi says.
It would be easy to take Fushimi’s immediate dismissal as petty teenage defiance, but Munakata can see the gears starting to turn in Fushimi’s head. “Oh? It sounds like you already have something in mind, then.”
“I…code things, sometimes,” Fushimi mumbles.
“Ah,” Munakata says, delighted. He can certainly work with that. “Then maybe contract programming would be for you? Have you ever tried freelancing before?”
Fushimi shakes his head.
“Well, the paperwork for self-employment is a little complex,” Munakata says, “and we’ll have to sort out everything for taxes and health insurance, but we have the resources for all that. And I’m sure we could find your first clients with the right networking.” His mind starts racing as he thinks through the next steps. It will certainly be difficult, especially for someone as young as Fushimi, but Munakata relishes the challenge.
As Munakata has been talking, Fushimi’s eyebrows have been steadily rising, and now he’s starting to look a little overwhelmed.
“Oh, sorry,” Munakata says. “I’m getting ahead of myself. We don’t have to figure this all out right now, but you should start thinking about it.”
When Fushimi still doesn’t say anything, Munakata prompts, “Are you reconsidering your choice to leave SCEPTER 4?” It certainly would have had simpler tax paperwork.
At that, Fushimi finally relaxes. “Hell no.”
Munakata smiles.
Kusanagi watches with not a small amount of concern as Seri polishes off her drink. It’s her third of the night so far, and she shows no sign of stopping anytime soon.
“I can’t believe he would ask something like this of me!” she exclaims, gesturing at the bartender for yet another drink.
“Are you going to do it?” Kusanagi asks.
“I said yes,” Seri replies, a little despairingly. “What else could I have done in that situation?”
Normally when the two of them meet up for drinks, they just gripe about their respective bosses. The energy is significantly more morbid today though, now that Seri has explained Munakata’s contingency plan for preventing a Damocles Down in the event that his Weismann levels go overboard—namely by requesting that Seri mercy kill him before that can happen.
His initial shock aside, Kusanagi has to admire Munakata’s foresight. It’s certainly more thinking ahead than Mikoto has ever done.
“But how would I even do it?” Seri asks. Reaching into her bag, she pulls out her collapsible baton and slaps it down onto the bar, startling the bartender who’s just returned with her drink. “I can’t exactly use this!”
Yeah, Kusanagi thinks, looking at the blunt-ended weapon, that would be pretty messy.
“Uh…a couple of your lot are military, right? Reservists?” he asks carefully. “Could one of them get you a gun or something?” It might be a little cleaner and faster than the current option.
Unfortunately that’s the exact wrong thing to say, judging by the way that Seri’s face goes pale with horror.
“Do you think I know how to use a gun?” she shrieks.
Enomoto is suddenly awoken by the sound of people yelling. He jerks upright from where he’d fallen asleep on the table in one of the restaurant’s booths, quickly straightening his glasses from where they’d been knocked askew.
“What do you assholes think you’re doing?” Fushimi asks coldly.
At first, Enomoto thinks that Fushimi is addressing him and the other clansmen who are also groggily waking up. Maybe he’s annoyed at them for falling asleep during one of their now-regular game nights. Enomoto hasn’t had many opportunities to get to know Fushimi in the few months since he’s joined the clan, so he figures that he can’t be faulted for the initial assumption.
As it turns out, Fushimi is facing away from them and instead looking across the room at the Minato twins, who are standing frozen against the far wall. Their swords are held out defensively in front of them, and there are several throwing knives embedded in the wall around them, with more still held in Fushimi’s hands.
Hidaka yawns loudly. “Fushimi, can you keep it down a little?” he asks, and then stiffens as he takes in the scene in front of him. “What…what’s going on here?”
“Fushimi attacked us!” Akito quickly exclaims. “It was out of nowhere, I have no idea why!”
Fushimi rolls his eyes. “Don’t give me that crap. You were clearly trying to kill Munakata in order to get back into SCEPTER 4’s good graces.”
The twins glance at each other as if to protest their innocence, but Fushimi flashes the knives in his hands again and they remain silent. Probably the smartest move they’ve made all evening, Enomoto thinks.
“Really?” Hidaka asks, sounding resigned. “After we took you guys in and everything?”
Fushimi clicks his tongue. Addressing the assembled clansmen, he says, “You lot have gotten too complacent, letting your guard down like that. You’re idiots if you really think that one night of board games is enough to actually trust them.”
Enomoto expects Hidaka to retort with righteous fury and resigns himself to cleaning up another set of stab wounds tonight. Instead, Hidaka just makes a face. “Well, you could stand to say it more nicely than that,” he says mildly, “but I suppose you have a point.”
There’s a sudden flurry of motion as the Minatos make a break for it. Several clansmen cry out in alarm, but before any of them can do anything more than reach for their weapons the Minatos are already on the ground, clutching at their bodies where Fushimi has stabbed them.
Akiyama and Benzai quickly grab the Minato twins before they can try anything else. Meanwhile, Doumyouji whoops in delight, flinging himself onto Fushimi’s back in an excited embrace.
“That was so cool!” he gushes. “Can you teach me how to do that? I’ll get Munakata to let me expense some knives.”
“Absolutely not, get off of me—”
“Nice one, Fushimi!” Hidaka exclaims. The other clansmen gather in as well to echo the sentiment, and even Fuse, who up until that point has been the least welcoming of them towards Fushimi, comes up and claps him on the shoulder companionably.
Fushimi stiffens, shrinking away awkwardly and looking very much like the teenager that he is. Despite the fact that Enomoto has barely ever talked to Fushimi, he finds that he wants to offer him encouragement.
“Good work, Fushimi!” Enomoto pipes up. “I’m sure Munakata will be very appreciative of you coming to his defense!”
Somehow Fushimi looks more alarmed by that than he had at the prospect of the Minatos killing his King. “What the—absolutely the fuck not, I just didn’t want to deal with the hassle of it all.”
Enomoto figures if he says anything he’ll be the one to get stabbed next, so instead he just smiles at Fushimi.
“It’s not like they could have actually done anything to him,” Fushimi mumbles, looking away. “Besides, you know he’d make us fill out paperwork about it.”
Zenjou watches from the banks of the mainland as the Swords of Suoh Mikoto and Munakata Reisi clash in the sky above Ashinaka Island, and wonders if he made a mistake in evacuating with the others. He knows perfectly well how Suoh’s Weissman levels have been looking, so leaving his King’s side feels almost like negligence, in a way.
Then again, he hadn’t stopped his King from going on the warpath for Totsuka Tatara’s sake in the first place, so he supposes he made his decision long ago. Zenjou really had become fond of the kid after all the time they’d spent training together.
Zenjou remembers when he first met Suoh. It had been eight years after he’d stopped Habari Jin’s Sword from falling, and the newly crowned Blue King and his lieutenant had come to his home to pay him a visit. While Kusanagi had bowed respectfully in greeting, Suoh hadn’t moved, staring Zenjou down like he was daring him to cut him down as well. Kusanagi had explained that they were reforming SCEPTER 4, and had been paying house visits to the old clan’s members to see if they were interested in joining.
Looking flatly at Suoh, all of eighteen years old and flanked by his lieutenant who looked barely any older, Zenjou had told them that he’d already killed one Blue King to prevent a Damocles Down, and he had no compunctions about doing it again.
Suoh had only smirked and said, “So that’s a yes, then.”
Despite that declaration, Zenjou now finds himself far away from the action, surrounded by other Blue clansmen who are closely monitoring the Weissman levels of the battling Kings. Zenjou knows it’s already a foregone conclusion that Suoh isn’t coming back—the only remaining question is if this will end with only Suoh dead, or the entire country if he manages to take Munakata down with him.
Zenjou almost finds it funny that he’s in the same situation he was thirteen years ago, facing a potential chain reaction of Damocles Downs, except this time he’s completely powerless to do anything to stop it.
Alarms start shrieking and the gathered Blues gasp as a huge crack forms right down the center of Suoh’s Sword. Zenjou recognizes the sight well—Suoh’s Sword is moments away from falling.
Idly, Zenjou wonders what Habari would have thought about his choices. He’s not in the right place, he’s failed to kill those who need to be killed, and he’s put avenging Totsuka Tatara above the lives of everyone else in the country. He supposes he’ll never know, but given his luck he’ll probably still survive to face the consequences.
Kushina Anna awakens as a King ten months after the deaths of Suoh Mikoto and Munakata Reisi. Less than a week later, Fushimi Saruhiko does as well. The Slate’s choice in successors is perhaps not as surprising as the colors that had been assigned.
“You will take up the role of Captain of SCEPTER 4 and lead the Blue Clan, then?” Kokujouji Daikaku asks the new Blue King.
“Hell no,” Fushimi says, looking disgusted at the very thought. “There’s absolutely nothing you could do to make me go back to that shithole.”
“Fushimi!” Awashima Seri chides. “Show some respect for His Excellency!”
Well, Kokujouji is glad that at least someone is showing a little sympathy for the fact that he is currently quite literally lying on his deathbed.
As fun as wasting away in a blimp floating over Tokyo had been, Kokujouji had forced the Silver King (who has apparently decided to start going by a Japanese name now) to bring him back to Mihashira Tower upon the awakening of not just one but two Kings in such short succession.
Isana Yashiro himself is now awkwardly standing on the sidelines watching the proceedings, flanked on each side by his clansmen who had frantically burst into the building upon realizing what was happening. The Strain girl Neko is clinging to his arm while Yatogami Kuroh keeps glancing back at him as though afraid he’ll disappear the moment he’s out of view.
Kokujouji decides to circle back to the issue of the Blue King. “And as for the Red King—”
“Anna’s not leaving SCEPTER 4!” Lieutenant Kusanagi Izumo interjects, putting himself bodily between her and Kokujouji.
Kokujouji lets out the most put-upon sigh he’s ever given breath to in his ninety-five years of life. Soon enough, none of this will be his problem anymore. “Very well,” he relents, “The Red King can take charge of SCEPTER 4, and the Blue King can…do what he wants.”
“Take charge—” Kusanagi starts, disbelieving, before cutting himself off. “Yes, this is acceptable. Thank you, Your Excellency.” Under his breath, Kokujouji can just barely hear him mutter, “Why does he keep putting literal children in charge of a government organization?”
Fushimi scoffs. “It’s not like you weren’t running SCEPTER 4 when Suoh Mikoto was King too.”
“But Saruhiko,” Anna pipes up, “isn’t Seri leading HOMRA right now? Are you going to take over?”
Fushimi clicks his tongue and turns away, clearly annoyed at being caught out.
Kokujouji sighs again. He certainly doesn’t envy whichever poor souls are tasked with dealing with these two after he’s gone.
Honestly, they’re even worse than their predecessors.