Chapter Text
The political world is all about facades. One must present themselves as dreamy, perfect beings that have everything under control and could never do no wrong. It’s not about who you are or what you’re after, it’s about what you make people believe that you are and you’re after. How one behaves and presents themselves publicly, greatly affects the influence and power that you hold.
Thus, being a politician’s secretary is essentially like being their salesperson. They have the utmost responsibility of shaping and protecting their reputation and public image. And so, as Muzan Kibutsuji’ right hand man, Kokushibo spends a lot of time admiring said image. A charming smile on a poster, a confident thumbs up on a flyer, a perfectly calculated laugh while at a press conference, and an almost dubiously polite tone during an interview.
“That dumbass interviewer couldn’t even get my name right. It’s not even that hard! He’s just fucking stupid. They’re hiring anyone these days, like having brain cells is optional.” Complained said charming politician as he took a puff of his cigar.
Next to him, Kokushibo held a cup of coffee he’d bought to-go from the nearest coffee shop. He handed it to Muzan without acknowledging his comment, and Muzan took the cup and began drinking it without acknowledging the favor.
“What’s next on my schedule?” He asked, switching back to his cigar after the first sip of coffee.
“After we wrap things up in the office, we have that team bonding dinner later tonight. But I left a few hours free for you to get ready.” He answered.
Muzan took another, more conscious sip of the hot drink and nodded. “Good job. I assume our ride is on its way already?”
“Mhm.”
Kokushibo got to see the most facets of Muzan Kibutsuji. It made sense since, as his secretary, he spent the most time around him. One could say he knew him the most out of anyone. He knew exactly how he liked his coffee. Exactly when he craved a cigar. And, sometimes, he could even predict what he’d complain about next.
Likewise, he felt as though Muzan could see right through him. He’d move and scheme taking into account what Kokushibo would do for him, exactly how he had in mind. It was as if they were in sync with each other; which kind of made Kokushibo wonder if his master could read his mind.
Once their ride finally made it out of the valet, they both headed to the office to quickly wrap things up for the day. Muzan’s subordinates gave him updates, he gave them instructions, he viewed some reports, caught up on paperwork, all routinary stuff. Afterwards, Muzan headed to his condo to prepare himself for the evening. As for his loyal secretary, well… Of course, he also tagged along.
They had been working hard all morning, so the boss went ahead and took a quick shower, while Kokushibo stayed in the kitchen, answering some additional calls and stealing snacks he already knew where to find in the cupboards.
After he was done grooming himself, Muzan headed to the kitchen, where his secretary was still duly talking on the phone. Once he hung up, Muzan spoke up with a playful smirk.
“Still hard at work, I see.”
Kokushibo nodded. “It was Nakime. She sent today’s report on her infiltration.”
“I see. Anything noteworthy?”
Kokushibo shook his head. “Nothing in particular.”
“Thought so. Ubuyashiki is just far too clever. He never slips up.”
“Nobody’s perfect. We shall gain the upper hand eventually.”
Muzan’s eyebrows furrowed at that first statement, but he focused on the second one. “Right you are, Kokushibo. It’s just a matter of time.” He sighed, and leaned on the counter, closing the distance between them only slightly. “But enough about that… How much time did you make for us?”
“We have two hours.” Kokushibo replied stoically.
“Great. Enough to relax, watch a movie, or maybe… do something else.” Muzan’s hand found its way to Kokushibo’s chest, where it idly traced the almost imperceptible patterns of his necktie.
Kokushibo’s attention turned to that action, but his expression betrayed no hint of how it made him feel. “What are you in the mood for?”
Muzan scoffed. “You always leave it up to me.”
“You’re the boss.”
“Hah. The boss feels like letting you decide.”
“Then…” Kokushibo looked up as if he were thinking about it, though he already knew what he wanted. “I say we watch that movie… and do something else if it’s boring.”
Muzan smirked. “Hm, perhaps I should find a reeaal boring movie for us.”
They sat down on the couch, close enough their knees touched. Muzan picked whatever popped up first on his 100-inch 4K screen. The wall sized window to their right allowed for the beautiful sunset to hang by them like a painting. Except this painting let the light in. Kokushibo looked Muzan’s way to find his boss’s profile bathing in gold. He thought he looked truly beautiful when the last remaining sunlight of the day highlighted his face and reflected in his eyes. He wondered what made it so particularly alluring to see him bask in sunlight.
Muzan turned to meet his gaze, sensing he was being observed. “What? Bored already?”
“Perhaps I am.”
Muzan smirked arrogantly, like he’d won. “Then allow me to-“
Kokushibo’s phone rang. He took the vibrating device out his pocket and looked at the screen before picking up. Kamanue was calling from the office.
“What?” He answered, not at all enthused.
Muzan watched while Kokushibo answered the call, also not at all enthused.
“Understood. I will let him know.” The assistant hung up the phone before turning to his master to explain the situation. “Some of the reports we just filled out are missing. They need to be sent by the end of the day. We will need to go back to the office.”
Muzan’s expression remained unperturbed at first, his eyes fixed on Kokushibo as he asked, “Who lost them?”
“They don’t know how they got lost. He blamed Mukago and Rokuro, but those two said it was Wakuraba.”
“Haha… I will have to ready the punishment gadget for all of them, then.” He said calmly.
Kokushibo nodded, and sighed in annoyance at their lost moment. “Let’s go.”
***
After dealing with the mess in the office, and after the boss was done having fun with that gadget of his, the pair had no time left for themselves, so they headed straight for the venue where the social event they had scheduled would take place. Muzan appeared like a completely different person when he once again put on his business smile and pretended to be a polite, civil individual.
Kokushibo tagged along until he heard a couple screams of excitement, others of despair, from one of the tables. He went to inspect the commotion, just to find Douma, the conman, reading people’s fortunes as he leisurely drank a cup of sake.
“So you want a way to jump up the ranks but don’t know what to do about your own incompetence… Oh, you poor thing. If you buy this Pro Business Pen, you will become a competent employee, you will never lose any important documents again, and your boss will surely notice you!” Douma showed a golden pen to Mukago, and the girl immediately took it.
“How much is it? Can I buy three?”
Kokushibo took the pen from Mukago’s hands and hit Douma with it. “What are you doing here, scamming our employees?”
“Ow, haha, hello there, Mr. Kokushibo! Would you like to have your fortune read?”
“I thought this event was for team bonding.” He replied, unamused.
“It is! I’m here so we can bond as a team! I even brought my good friend Akaza.” Douma pointed towards the person sitting next to him, a young man with dark hair and striking blue eyes.
The young man seemed irritated as he corrected Douma. “It’s Hakuji. And we’re not friends, I only came here because you talked Koyuki into convincing me…”
“Exactly, she only wants you to be more social! Poor Mr. Akaza has no friends…”
Kokushibo interrupted the two. “What does this have to do with us? Get out of our event.”
“Actually, Mr. Kokushibo, I was invited to this event.” Douma smirked cockily. “Remember that time your team relied on my impressive fortune telling skills? Lord Muzan himself said I was a great help, and he had Miss Nakime invite me to join your team bonding party today! He was even fine with me bringing a plus one.”
Hakuji interrupted. “And you brought me here, out of all people you could’ve chosen, because…?”
“Because I like you very much! You’re my best friend in the whole, entire world.” Douma smiled innocently.
Hakuji sighed. “My fault for asking.”
“Haha, don’t be like that. I also think you’d make a great addition to Mr. Muzan’s ranks. You were pretty strong back then, I bet you could be a great help to him.” Douma suggested.
Hakuji groaned. “I told you, I don’t do that stuff anymore. I don’t want to get hired by him, I’m going to run the Soyama Dojo after I graduate.”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s still not too late to change your mind!”
Kokushibo ignored their bickering, turned to Nakime, who was also sitting on their table, and asked, “Is what he said true?”
Nakime nodded. “The shady guy and his plus one are welcome.”
“Ah, I wasn’t aware. Well, if he said so, then I guess it’s fine…”
“So? Feel like getting your fortune read yet?” Douma pulled a card deck from under the table, looking expectantly at Kokushibo.
“Alright, if you insist.”
“Yay!” Douma shuffled the cards and extended them for Kokushibo. “Pick three.”
Kokushibo didn’t put much thought into it and grabbed whatever three cards he saw first. He put them face up on the table so that the fortune teller could analyze them, then sighed at what he saw, disappointed but somehow not surprised.
“These are Uno cards.”
The fortune teller kept his cordial smile. “Indeed they are.”
Just before Kokushibo could smack him in the head again with the golden pen, Douma hid behind Hakuji, using him as a shield, and explained. “Wait, wait! It doesn’t matter what kind of cards I use! All of them have their own meaning and I can still read your fortune!”
“You’re a sham.” Kokushibo stated, backing down so he wouldn't hurt the young man Douma roped into this mess.
“Hold on! Listen to this!” Douma cleared his throat and began. “You got the skip turns card, the one and the two, and all of them in red… This means that-”
“That you didn’t shuffle them right.” Hakuji mocked.
“Haha, no, no. Look at the order in which he drew them: one, skip turns, two. It means that Mr. Kokushibo strives to be on top, to be the very best at something, but feels like he can’t quite get there, always settling for number two instead…”
This actually caught Kokushibo’s attention, and he began to pay close attention to what the blond was saying. “What about the red color? Does it mean anything?”
“It means the situation makes you feel terrible. You must be enraged about it, and willing to do anything to overcome this trial!” Douma mused. “Hmm, but it also means you’ve come to a stop. There is nothing you can do to change it… So my advice to you, is to accept things as they are. Whatever it is that troubles you so much, you should let go of it, and see what you can do with what you do have, and where you currently stand.”
Kokushibo stayed silent.
“You’re making all of this up, right?” Hakuji asked.
Nakime agreed, “There’s no way what he’s saying is true. Kokushibo is our Lord’s number one. Besides, he’s good at everything he does, so how could he possibly feel inferior?”
Kaigaku, who had been listening in from the table behind them, popped up. “Could it be that Mr. Kokushibo is aiming for Lord Muzan’s spot as well?!”
“That’s not it.” Kokushibo chided immediately.
The scary look his superior gave him made Kaigaku instantly back down. “O-of course, how could it be…”
“Then he is lying!” Hakuji rolled his eyes. “I knew he was all talk!”
Kokushibo looked aside, guiltily stating, “Yes… I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
Douma looked through his Uno cards again. “Huh? That’s weird… maybe I made a mistake.”
“Just stick to selling overpriced pens.” Nakime said.
“Ough… I’ll have to practice Uno fortune telling a bit more to perfect it…” Douma sulked, ignoring Nakime’s comment.
“Can’t you just stop scamming people?!” Hakuji said, a vein popping from his forehead.
Once more, Douma ignored the critique and immediately returned to his cheery smile. “Anyway, who wants to play Uno?”
The group gave in and played Uno together, until Rokuro called upon the secretary.
“Mr. Kokushibo! We’re gonna have a drinking competition! Wanna join?”
Kokushibo stood up from his seat to look over the people involved, seeking one particular person’s participation. When he saw Muzan holding a cup of an unidentified liquor in his hands, he immediately went to sit by his side.
“My Lord. You’ll also join the contest?”
Muzan looked him up and down and nodded. “Yes. It’s impolite to decline drinks in these kinds of events.”
Kokushibo laughed internally at his Lord’s dutiful demeanor, and asked for a cup himself. “Let's see who holds up better, then.”
Douma barged in, dropping his Uno cards somewhere on the table. “Oh! Drinking contest! Sounds like fun! Let’s join in too, Akaza!”
“I can’t drink! I’m a student! And I told you to call me Hakuji!”
Douma laughed. “You could participate with cups of apple juice!”
“Why would I do that?”
Kaigaku tapped Hakuji’s shoulders to pull him away from the rowdy scam artist. “Hakuji, since we both can’t drink, let’s be the judges of the contest.”
“Oh… Sure, I guess.” Hakuji agreed, though not too excited about it.
From the other side of the room, Wakuraba walked stealthily towards them. “Hey, brat! I’ll pay you if you tell everyone I won at the end!”
Kaigaku smirked. “How much are we talking?”
“How’s five thousand yen?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. My friend Hakuji here might not see you win…”
Wakuraba rolled his eyes. “Okay fine, ten thousand.”
“Deal.” Kaigaku took the money and gave Hakuji his share, as Wakuraba walked away. “See? Watch and learn.”
Hakuji gave him the money back, with an indignant look. “What?! No! You’re letting him buy you out? That’s cowardly!”
Kaigaku patted his fellow classmate’s shoulder. “It’s not, my friend. By the time the party’s over, he’ll be so wasted he won’t remember he paid me, and if he does, I can just deny everything and blame it on his drunken delusions. I don’t have to actually make him the winner.”
Hakuji stared at him in shock, not believing what he was hearing. “That’s even worse! It makes you no better than that scammer!” He grabbed the money Kaigaku had and ran off to give it back to its owner.
“Hey!” Kaigaku chased after him, but as he ran, he tripped over the chair where Kokushibo was sitting.
The older man grabbed Kaigaku by the collar before he could fall, and held him up so they were face to face.
“Stop making a scene and do your job as a judge.”
“S-sure. Sorry, Mr. Kokushibo.”
Kokushibo sat the kid on the chair next to his right, and Kaigaku looked over to where Muzan was sitting. The boss looked imposing as he drank from his cup. He was slow at it, doing it in small sips, which gave the impression he could really hold his drinks, but the illusion was broken when next to him, his secretary began piling up empty cups one after the other.
By the end of the night, almost everyone was passed out or had already retired from the event, except for three contenders. Muzan had long stopped drinking and was now having a hard time keeping his eyes open. Next to him, Kokushibo looked unfazed as ever, and in front of them, Douma, who also kept his usual carefree demeanor, finished his last cup and placed it on the table.
“I’m done… I don’t think I’ll ever beat you, Mr. Kokushibo, no matter how much I keep drinking! I still have to take Hakuji home or Koyuki will be mad at me, so I will stop here.”
Kaigaku smiled. “That makes Mr. Kokushibo the winner, again! As expected, no one can ever beat him!”
Kokushibo tried to play it cool as if he didn’t care about his win. “Yeah, well. I have to take Lord Muzan home, so it’s about time I stop too.”
He looked at Muzan. He was leaning his cheek on one hand, his gaze lost on the empty cups and trying really hard not to fall asleep. It was adorable.
“Come on, I’ll call a cab for us.” Kokushibo said as he helped Muzan up, and they went outside to wait for their ride.
When the cab arrived, they both sat on the back. Muzan leaned his head on Kokushibo’s shoulder and closed his eyes, feeling safe enough to actually get some sleep now. His secretary allowed him the moment of respite, pulling him a tiny bit closer.
Once they got to the condo, Muzan groggily made his way to the door, but stopped after inserting the key into the hole. He turned back to Kokushibo, as if he’d finally remembered something important.
“Are you staying the night?”
Kokushibo froze. “Do you… want me to?”
Muzan rolled his eyes. Of course he wasn’t going to admit to anything. “I don’t care what you do. Stay if you want, or don’t. Whatever.”
Kokushibo gulped. When he’d been in a better state of mind that morning, Muzan had been so straightforward, but now he acted so aloof. That’s how it always was with him. What Kokushibo meant to him depended on his mood. And when push really came to shove, his Lord would always run away like a scared kitten from a moving truck, never letting show even a hint of what he truly felt.
Kokushibo would give anything to, just once, hear those words uttered from his master’s mouth. Not an order, not an afterthought, only a wish. A genuine desire. A simple ‘I want you to stay’.
Tonight wasn’t the night he’d hear it, so it seemed.
“Then, I will leave you to rest. I have already bothered you enough today, I believe.” He bowed and began to walk away.
Muzan could have stopped him from leaving. He could have told him how he wasn’t a bother, how he’d always been quite the contrary, in fact. Yet he didn’t. He felt a knot in the back of his throat, one he knew all too well, that prevented him from speaking. Fueled perhaps by pride, or perhaps by fear.
Kokushibo walked back towards the cab and opened the door, before turning back, still hoping his master would say something, anything, to make him stay.
Of course, he gave him nothing. So Kokushibo waved at him. “Good night. Rest well.”
“Yeah. You too. Good night.” Muzan said before opening the door and going inside.