#verlorwandergeist

How excellent, that Mr. Fushimi has taken the initiative. Reisi shrugs his jacket back up, over his shoulders. Mr. Fushimi has opened the van door, after all. They have an audience. And it’d hardly do, to put on this performance without a proper costume. His bruised rib protests the movement. But the show must go on!

Is Mr. Fushimi rambling on, still? Does he not know the value of understatement? Particularly on a stage so close to their audience as this… The rest of the men have gone very quiet, except for Hidaka. He can see fists curling, eyes narrowing. They won’t strike a superior officer. Though if they did, Reisi could work with it.

“…You kings were so fixated on the Slate, that you couldn’t even sense the existence of another. It’s clear who’s at fault here.”

“If you’re here to criticize what’s already happened, then leave. I am very tired.”

“Aren’t you going to give us your next orders?”

“I’m sure Isana Yashiro will think of something. Follow his orders. After all, I’ve been defeated. I’ll keep myself out of the way.”

“So you’re just going to sulk–” He continues on, but Reisi is staring at him, trying to think up his next line.

He’s still struck with that terrible, mortifying relief. Even though he knows he has to send Mr. Fushimi away–he wants to go sit in his office, make himself some tea, and share it with Mr. Fushimi and Ms. Awashima. He wants to know their true thoughts–if they are not, perhaps, embarrassed to have such a King as him. I did all I could have done. I am sorry. I’ve endangered us all.

“–You could control the world as you saw fit. Only to find out an annoying old man survived. I’d be pissed too, if I were you.”

Reisi has lost the track of the conversation, and already picked out his reply, and at any rate if he spoke about Iwafune Tenkei this would go in an unnecessary direction. He has to be angry with Mr. Fushimi, not apologize for his own failures. How might a man project such an emotion?

“Are you glad that the plan failed?”

“Yeah! As well as the fact that you lost!”

Reisi can see Mr. Fushimi’s amateurish acting in the way that he glances back at the others. It is a good thing that Mr. Fushimi is facing away from them at the moment, because his voice may go higher, his words may get more cruel–but his eyes and his mouth simply can’t carry that same emotion. It’s convincing enough, as a physical performance angled well, but to Reisi, it is inherently flawed. They started out strong, but they are losing the thread of it.

Could Mr. Fushimi be so foolish, so vindictive, as to be glad that the plan failed? No, that simply isn’t like Mr. Fushimi, though the casual observer might think so. People could die. Whatever his flaws–however easily the young man holds a grudge, and delights in battle and mocking his opponents–this simply isn’t the Mr. Fushimi that any of these men know.

He doesn’t know, Reisi realizes. He doesn’t know how much they trust him–he thinks they don’t know him well enough, to see that this is a lie–

If that’s what he thinks, Mr. Fushimi is wrong.

“If you’re bailing now, I’m resigning,” says Mr. Fushimi, and he says it coldly, dispassionately. Not a single one of the men makes a move. They think that Reisi will save this, or that Mr. Fushimi is merely trying to persuade Reisi into action. They don’t think he means it.

“Fine, resign,” says Reisi. “If you have complaints against me, leave now.”

Reisi can’t afford for this plan to fail, too.

Very well, then–he’ll have to play the villain. Perhaps that will be believable. The others do not know him as well as they know Mr. Fushimi, anyway, having lived with him and worked so closely with him. They never had that opportunity, with Reisi. They’ve seen Mr. Fushimi’s anger–they’ve never seen Reisi’s.

His hands curl tightly together, in his lap. Reisi knows what needs to be said.

“You’re used to being a traitor anyway.” He could stop there. But now it is his own turn to ramble. “If you don’t like something, you just quit. Isn’t that the kind of person you’ve always been?”

Mr. Fushimi’s jaw drops. There it is–that truth, that horror and shock that will sell this. Mr. Fushimi cannot even seem to say anything else.

But Reisi can.

“That’s why you could never commit yourself to one King. But you also couldn’t remove yourself from the Slate’s influence. So you just wander around aimlessly–” This, Reisi does not know how to say. Your tiny, self-imposed exile–your–your lonely–  “In your small world.”

Mr. Fushimi’s only answer is the thud of his sword piercing the side of the van. A good choice–they certainly didn’t rehearse that. Reisi has Mr. Fushimi’s honest reaction, and it is wordless, a snarl on Mr. Fushimi’s lips, as he turns away. It’s true enough to send a shiver over Reisi, and break that overwhelming relief. Has he lost his hidden weapon?