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“and yet you killed me, because i wanted you to”, the bitter truth that both men had to to face on their own. it was not a pretty experience, though; it was filled with remorse and tragedy. “do you regret killing me, munakata?” — the answer would be pretty much obvious, but whatever.

maybe the situation is uncalled for, but for some reason, the redhead had the desire to hug the other. sounds odd at first as he knows that he’d probably lose his head or a limb or something, but that doesn’t matter. his arms are wrapped around the other’s figure, a sigh is relieved and he closes his eyes while he listens to munakata’s monologue.

“like you?”, he asks, bluntly. a weird way to respond to his monologue, but munakata has made it sound like he was trying to refer to himself. he could deny it, but mikoto would find out anyway, and there is in fact no need to lie. mikoto can see through munakata’s lies, it’s one of the things he’s able to, especially after knowing the blue king for so long.

“Do not... do not suddenly pretend to care about what I want.” Munakata said, his expression becoming incredibly complex behind his glasses. He was used to hiding away his own emotions. He would not show them unless he was with the closest of subordinates. Mikoto was not a subordinate, they were not even friends, they were at best rivals, and at worst kings at war. 

Yet, from behind his glasses a single tear fell. Then more, as his eyes became asymettrical, tears leaking from one eye, while the other still stared in anger at Mikoto. “You never listened to me, I warned you again and again that you would die and all you cared about was burning yourself with your own self immolating feelings.”

A wild Munakata appaered. Though he was nothing more than a stranger, he had a regal bearing about him, and his glasses shined with a glare that hid the eyes that were watching behind them. 

“Hello, you’re quite young, are you not?” He asked suddenly to the random stranger. Usually he was much more tactful than to walk up to a stranger, but he had an incredibly pressing and important question. It was one which the fate of his future kingdom in this city would rest upon.

Munakata swung his fake sword over and over again. Even without his real sword, or his sword of damocles, he needed to be in top form at all times. His last memory was a terrible lost brought about by his own weakness. 

The king was confident as all king’s must be, but there was no time to lounge on a throne. He stuck forward again and again with his sword, a terrifying expression of determination forming on his face. 

He sat in the middle of what looked to be a park. At least this city’s version of a park. It was hard to maintain apperances in what was a wrecked city, but a king often did not get to choose their kingdom. 

wherever he is or whoever abducted him to this place, he’s relieved to have at least one cigarette left. his powers have left him too, but he’s still able to use part of it to light up his last cigarette. he would not be sure how he would manage the next days (or even hours) without one, but he hopes that he’d take it easy.

for some reason, however, he has phantom pain on his chest; it felt like something (or someone) has stabbed him and it’s bothering ever since he’s awake. maybe the pain will be gone hopefully soon.

while he walks around this strange place, a familiar voice echoes through his ears. a smile appears on his lips while memories come back. he remembers: both him and reisi were fighting, but that’s all he has in his mind. “why aren’t you telling that directly to my face, munakata? i’m right here”, he replies to the other, standing behind him.

that wooden sword that reisi is holding at him just make him chuckle. “heh… put that toothpick away”, he mutters, as he drops his cigarette. “if you want to kill me, then do it. even again, if you wish.”

The hand holding onto his sword trembled. The last time they were this close, Mikoto embraced him, and embraced death at the same time. He did not want to feel the red kig’s body be so cold ever again.

“That is not what i wanted. That is never what I wanted and you know it.” 

He dropped his sword to the side, even if it was a toothpick he felt more confident with any kind of saber in his hand. Fighting with just his bare fists was inelegant. He wanted to do more than that though, he wanted to grab at this king’s collar, and scream in his face. Until Mikoto understood exactly how he felt. 

However, doing that would mean sacrificing his precious composure. So, he simply stared on coldly through his glasses. “This city... it’s a second chance. There are... more reasons to live than just one you know, and you can always find more people to live for.” 

Munakata Reisi - Blue King - [K] Project

all of his subordinates use swords like it’s bleach or something

what’s a mob to a king

looks like he could kill you but is actually a cinnaemon roll

.does the scary shiny glasses thing all the time. probably on purpose.

bonds with his subordinates by owning them in monopoly

kingdom of one right now

hey for those who don’t know who because I’ve been a little scarce lately.  This is link! I’m 22 years old and I use she/her pronouns. I’m an avid meta writer, and fanfic writer as well as an rper. My main blog is @linkspooky and my twitter is @ linkzeldi as well as my ao3 account.  I’m a two year long citta veteran whose been through a lot of characters, but Shigaraki is my longest muse at about two years! I also have brought Roma, and Shirou as new muses for a fresh start. I’m adding Munakata to the list now too. 

How many days have passed like this. The city the crowd is fading, moving on... sometimes I wonder whre you’ve gone.

Munakata’s last memories replayed in the back of his mind as he stared off into the distance. He failed to save a friend, the person he wanted to save the most. Not only that he put a city he was supposed to rule at risk, for a person he failed to save in the end. A failure of a king and a friend. He wondered if he was the next person whose damocles would start break apart as cracks appeared into his heart. 

“I hate you. I hate you for making my inadqueate self live after being the one to vanquish you...” He spoke in the same overly formal manner as ever to no one in paritcular. Only then did he heard a familiar voice.

Munakata turned around suddenly, ruthlessly with a machine like precision and grabbed the one who was watching him by the neck slamming him into the wall. He slid the wooden approximation of his sword out of its sheathe, not realizing yet it had been replaed for wood. 

Aoba had a habit of making his hideouts in warehouses. It reminded Munakata slightly of that gang Homra and their red leader. He readjusted his glasses trying to get rid of that memory as he waited for the other to arrive. 

The scene Aoba would walk in on, was Munakata sitting reclined in a chair in the middle of one of his hang out places, in his full blue regal uniform waiting for him. It was quite presumptuous, but then again could a king truly be presumuptuous. 

Munakata stood at the edge of the rain under a canopy, getting his bearings on the city. It had been quite a long time since he viewed the world from such a normal position. He could feel the faintest traces of his aura, but his sword of damcoles was gone, and he could not feel out the presence of others that were usually attached to this aura. 

What was a king without his people? Though, Munakata’s most recent memory did not have him feeling like a king at all. He looked at his empty hands and saw them trembling with regret and hesitation still even after the momet had long passed. The action he took was sure to poison his soul for a long time.

That was why it was better to not think about it for now. Munakata kept up his composure, and decided to stay out of the rain. That was until he noticed a boy with a similiar look in his eyes standing in the middle of the rain. Munakata walked over suddenly and appeared behind him, pulling off his jacket and draping it over the shoulders of the other.