You probably forgot about this already, but still.

Chapter 3 (part 1/3) (volume 2, pages 112-139)
The Awakened King

Hidaka Akira, drenched in cold sweat while lying in bed, buried himself along with his head under a blanket.

“This again.”

He was on the verge of miserably bawling.

As one of the few still capable of working troops of Scepter 4 that was currently suffering from severe manpower shortage, he had made his best effort, worked himself into boneless exhaustion and then returned to the dorm where the electricity had yet to be restored. But soon after he stretched out on the bed in his room, he heard it.

“Hih. Hihih,” a quiet voice snickered.

He tried to fearfully stick out his head from under the blanket.

“Eek!”

The flame of the candle left by the bed swayed yellow, revealing the shadow of a small silhouette moving on the wall. It couldn’t possibly be a mouse or a c.o.c.kroach. The size was like that of a little girl.

Awash with panic, Hidaka hurriedly retracted his head back under the blanket like a turtle.

‘Boo hoo hoo’. Now came the sobbing of a girl from somewhere around the legs of the bed.

Or so it seemed to Hidaka.

When he blocked his hearing by pressing his hands to his ears tightly, he felt someone shake him persistently by the shoulder.

Or at least he thought he felt it.

"Hey? You can hear me, can’t you? Come on, don’t ignore me. Are you listening?’

Hinaka was rapidly chanting Buddhist prayers and verses from the Bible. He memorized those only recently, and by pressing necessity, interspersing them with frantic self-persuasion, “This is an auditory hallucination! Just an auditory hallucination!”

Except, all of it was useless. And it’d been going on for a few days now. Once the night fell, he would hear the rustling of restless footsteps, the sounds of out-of-tune music playing, and the smell of raw flesh would attack his nostrils. Every night was like a grand festival of haunting and supernatural phenomena, filled with eerie shapes and ominous forms. To make it worse, no matter how much he prayed, scattered salt, burned incense or put up talismans, it showed no signs of abating.

All because his workload increased beyond limit, and he was dead-tired. Because a number of his fellow clansmen disappeared, and he felt unyielding pressure bearing down on him on so many levels.

That’s how he chose to explain his visual and auditory hallucinations and tried to make himself believe in that explanation, except his valiant attempt miserably failed. Hidaka kept seeing and hearing strange things all too clearly, and he couldn’t do anything about it, no matter how he tried.

“Uugh…”

If this continued on top of his acc.u.mulating fatigue, he really might crack. And for a reason like seeing ghosts, too. For Hidaka, that kind of reason was just too much, so he couldn’t bring himself to tell someone what was going on with him.

"Maybe I’m really ought to find a medium and have them perform an exorcism.’

For the record, Hidaka tried sleeping in places other than his own room, but the supernatural phenomena followed him there, forcing himself to conclude that he himself was being haunted.

"But how do I even find a medium to place a request with them?’

At the very least, until now Hidaka’s life was the kind where he didn’t have to deal with that sort of stuff.

It was probably his imagination, but the giggling and crying was gradually getting louder, with what sounded a man’s voice now added to the chorus. His bed was now positively rattling, too, and the raw-stinking draft was filling the s.p.a.ce. This haunting was much more blunt and outspoken than your typical haunted house, now.

"I can’t take it anymore. Someone, save me!’ Tears welled up in Hidaka’s eyes.

It was then that a knock on the door came.

“Hidakkun, can I come in?”

With these words, the door opened, letting dazzling light stream into the room.

Hidaka sat up on his bed, taken aback.

By the door, there stood Munakata Reishi. The blinding white radiance was spilling from the headlight he had mounted on his head. Upon a closer look, he appeared to be shouldering something resembling a backpack.

Momentarily, Hidaka was overcome with the thought of how cool he looked, timely appearing out of the darkness like some superstar at a live concert,
but he quickly changed his mind. Munakata looked clearly weird. Hidaka just found himself overwhelmed with his bearing, that’s how mysteriously impactful Munakata was.

“Oh, this?” Munakata spoke up in reply to Hidaka’s dazed gaze. “I thought it could come in handy, so I borrowed it from the supply department,” he explained what no one asked, and then added, “I shall be absent from the headquarters for a while, so until my return, please follow Fushimi-kun’s instructions. I’m counting on you, Hidakkun.”
“Ah, right, understood, sir,” Hidaka confirmed, still flabbergasted. “Understood, but, uhh, "absent’, sir? Where are going?”
“Oh, I’m planning to settle a few things.” Munakata’s eyes narrowed and he smiled softly, “I’m going to collect the special operation squad members scattered here and there. I shall see you later.”  With that, he raise a hand in parting and turned around. The door closed behind him with a click.

He truly came and went like a hurricane, leaving Hidaka confused and struggling to make sense of his superior’s behavior in his wake. There was only one thing that Hidaka knew for sure: the haunting and supernatural phenomena suddenly stopped, their presence, filled with so much negativity, purged and dispelled as if blown away by the gust of a gale.

“What the heck, our Captain is actually more potent against evil spirits than any talisman, huh…” Hidaka mumbled, relief, hope, irony and exhaustion all catching up with him at the same time and making him plop down on the bed listlessly.

Closing his eyes, for the time being, he decided to get some much needed shuteye until Fushimi contacted him. For some reason, he had a hunch that right now nice uninterrupted sleep was finally within his reach.

†

Fuse Daiki could only grit his teeth at his present circ.u.mstances, overcome with anger and irritation to the point where those feelings were all but on the verge of spilling right out of him.

“d.a.m.n it!” He threw a pebble at the rippling surface of the sea from the cliff he stood on with all his might. “d.a.m.n it all!”

This wasn’t a first or even second expletive he resorted to in the past hours. Only, every time he cursed the world and himself, he was a.s.saulted with the feeling of futility beyond comparison.

And he really was helpless. His PDA was useless, and no matter how loud he screamed, his voice wouldn’t reach anywhere with human habitation.

Although this was far from being a deserted island in distant seas, crossing a sea like the one surrounding the island by swimming and safely making it to land was clearly beyond human ability. The issue wasn’t as simple as just the distance: waters in this area were ruled by a series of complex tidal currents.

Even if Fuse put on something with buoyancy and jumped into the sea, he would either drown, swallowed by turbulent waves, or get swept by the currents into the open ocean, unable to do anything. If he were an amateur in what concerned the sea, he might have taken the option to "swim’.

Fuse, however, was rather experienced in sea fishing, and for that reason, he had intimate knowledge of how terrifying the sea could be, as well as familiarity with the areas of the ocean where it was possible to swim and where it wasn’t.

It was all too likely that even that knowledge of his was part of Kounomura Zen"ichi’s calculations when he set up this trap.

Still, the cause for Fuse’s unquenchable anger didn’t lie only in his easily falling into the enemy’s trap and being left strangled on an inhabited island. It was how perfectly set up this island was what was so aggravating.

When Fuse first went to explore the island, trying to maybe find a way to get off it, he discovered a number of boxes concealed in the shade of a rock. What he found inside the st.u.r.dy wooden crates and cooler boxes ranged from the bare necessities vital for preservation of life such as food, water, clothing and a portable cooking stove, to things to make life more comfortable, like a tent, a sleeping bag and a folding chair, to daily necessities for personal grooming, including a change of underwear, a toothbrush and some toothpaste, a shaver and shaving cream, to luxury grocery items such as beer, shochu, snacks and sweets (all of the above was kindly provided in the brands that were Fuse’s favorite). Among his findings, there was also a portable toilet camouflaged as rock surface. However, the discovery of a player packed full of digital manga and movies and a portable game console near the summit of the deserted island was the last straw that made his blood boil at how overly meticulous and entirely excessive the care extended to him was.

Having fallen into the enemy trap, Fuse was prepared to pay for his mistake and accept a degree of cruelty that naturally came with it. He was prepared to survive on muddy water and sea fish. Yet, on this island there was a spot clearly prepared by human hands with a sign "Best for putting up a tent’.

As far as Fuse was concerned, all that was nothing but pure humiliation. It was basically no different from coming to an island for an extended vacation.

That’s why, after some time had pa.s.sed, Fuse took his chances with a certain gamble.

Reworking the tent, he st.i.tched it in a balloon shape so that the air could be ama.s.sed in it; then he added there a cooler-box with some decent buoyancy, waited for the right moment and jumped into the sea.

He could read the tidal currents to an extent. By no means did he do it out of desperation.

Nevertheless, with the night falling, but still no signs of sh.o.r.e in sight even as his stamina was close to depletion and his vision was getting blurry, he couldn’t help the thought, "Maybe I was too naive in my a.s.sumptions, after all.’

“d.a.m.n it all!!!” He let out a scream of regret, but more than that, of frustration. Hand hitting the water surface with emotion, he ended up swallowing a bit of the water.

It was at that time that he heard the sound of an engine in the distance and a voice, “He~ey.”

Putting his remaining strength into lifting his head up, he saw a boat with multiple brightly shining photospheres installed on its hull, breaking through the wave crests and heading to where he was.

"A boat for squid fishing?’

Standing on the bow of it with a headlight on was none other than…

"C-Captain?’

Arms folded across his chest and one foot raised and planted on the bow, Munakata looked down at Fuse floating in the sea with a smile as he informed his clansman, “I came to collect you, Fuse-kun.”

After a while of gapping and staring up at his boss, “Fuh”, Fuse’s features twisted and, “Fuhahahahahah!” he roared with laughter. “You sure took your time, Captain,” affecting an exaggerated glare, he finally said after a good hearty laugh.

Munakata smiled back brightly.

†

“…But how did you know where to find me, sir?” Fuse asked, wiping his soaked body with a thick towel prepared on the fishing boat.

Munakata still stood on the bow with one foot hiked up and stared straight ahead at the night sea, possibly quite liking it there.

Like this, the boat looked surreal, like an illusionary ship of light provided for the king to cross the Milky Way against the backdrop of the sky that was starry for as far as the eye could see.

In reality, the boat was just an ordinary squid fishing boat. And it wasn’t even big: turning around was all it took to see in abundant detail the form of the boat’s captain, Yamatsan, in the deckhouse gripping the steering wheel while chewing on some gum.

“Fuse-kun,” Munakata addressed his subordinate loud enough for his voice not to be drowned out by the purr of the engine and the slapping of the waves. “Why did you venture out into the sea?” Munakata continued without turning his head. “Knowing you, I cannot imagine you did it rashly without any prospects of victory. Am I right?”

Fuse’s hand with the towel paused, and his expression turned serious. “…I did it hoping to draw out the person who must be monitoring me.”
“Fuse-kun.” Munakata abruptly turned his head, a whole face smile overtaking his features. Stepping lightly off the bow, he placed his both hands on Fuse’s shoulders and squeezed. “It was the right choice. Your plan was extremely reasonable.”

Fuse felt a little relieved to hear that. It proved his a.s.sumptions weren’t wrong.

“I did not get a chance make landfall on that island, but I’m sure it was packed full of all kinds of safety nets, was it not?”

Fuse nodded, looking sour. “It was indeed. To the point of making me sick.”

Munakata chuckled lightly. “Then my train of thought must have taken almost the same path as yours. Here is what I thought: Kounomurshi had succeeded in isolating Fuse Daiki, but he also must have exercised maximum consideration towards his safety and well-being. That’s why I stopped looking for you and instead followed the setup of the ring of that safety net, in particular, transportation routes of the goods meant to support your survival, as well as things like presence or lack of surveillance cameras, monitoring personnel and others. And here we are.” Munakata gestured, opening his arms. “I was able to locate the place where you were held in a natural progression, the same way as if you paint all but a circle on the drawing paper black, the remaining part will naturally be highlighted as white.”
“…”
“I’m sure,” Munakata addressed Fuse again, “this is what you thought: if you deliberately exposed yourself to danger, the people who are monitoring you would appear.”

Fuse silently nodded.

Munakata smiled. “And you were right. Even if I did not come to your aid, you would simply capture them and escape from here regardless.”
“Maybe.” Fuse looked away, seemingly a little bashful. “But it made me happy to see you come for me in person, Captain.”

Munakata stared at Fuse for a short while, then spoke up. “Fuse-kun. I know you must be a little tired, but there is a place I’d like to have you accompany me to without delay.”

Fuse stared back at Munakata in puzzlement.

Munakata made himself crystal clear then. “I’m going to crush Kounomurshi. And for that, I need your help - no, not only your help, but every Scepter 4 member’s. Can I ask that of you?”

In lieu of reply, Fuse stood at attention, snapping a salute.

Munakata didn’t have to ask. He just needed to order, and it would be done. That’s what Fuse tried to convey with his whole body.

Although he was soaked to the bone, his posture was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with youthful energy and spirit.

Munakata gave a p.r.o.nounced nod of satisfaction.

†

Benzai Yuujirou drank instant coffee at the police station located on a desolate street facing the Sea of Okhotsk.

It was 11 o"clock in the evening. His chase after a criminal who kept committing theft via his ability of phasing through objects led Benzai to this town on the farthest ends of the country.

The strain thief was identified as Tamada Genji, 46, unemployed. Tamada was originally from these lands, so he knew the locality well. He also made his getaway via a 4 wheel drive vehicle. Benzai had already confirmed that the perpetrator was hiding on the outskirts of this town.

The problem was that said outskirts weren’t anything remotely urban; it was a vast sprawling wilderness like you’d expect of a town out in the boonies. It was unclear whether Tamada was hiding in the long abandoned dilapidated houses or sleeping in his car, but if luck decided to be especially flighty, the manhunt scope could be as large as the size of the whole Tokyo area.

It was no wonder that even the patient and tenacious Benzai was fed up with the situation. In this town where it would take years upon years to record even a hundred criminal offenses, local police officers felt for Benzai.

“This is going to take a while. We’ll help you out, but still.”

At the moment, Benzai was conducting his investigation under the aegis of the police. When it came to drug control and regulation, cases of an investigator with the Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare being temporarily transferred, or a joint investigation conducted were not unheard of, and Benzai requested the local police for cooperation in approximately the same form. Thanks to his having to lead a life of flying all over the j.a.pan lately, fatigue was slowly but surely building in his body.

And there was a ton of things he worried about.

The first concern was what was going on with Scepter 4 at the moment. After Awashima went missing, Benzai’s supply of information got virtually cut off.

The next concern was about his partner, Akiyama, and what became of his case. But that was something that couldn’t be helped, no matter how much he worried, except when he thought about how the diligent and serious Akiyama felt when faced with those scandalous accusations, he longed to finish up all his work as quickly as possible and go back to support Akiyama however he could.

Although Benzai received a message from Munakata informing him that his superior commissioned an excellent attorney to defend Akiyama, he believed that there still was something he could do for his friend.

But, as if to laugh at Benzai’s impatience, the thief, Tamada, persistently stayed lying in hiding in the Hokkaido’s wilderness like a wild animal. Benzai didn’t really like this train of thought, but the charges on the offenses Tamada raked up were only tens of thousands yen at most, so Benzai really wished this petty criminal stopped giving him such a hard time and got caught already. The way Tamata kept making his getaway was like that of a seasoned offender who committed a very serious crime.

“Ahh.” Benzai let out yet another sigh and put the coffee to his lips. “…I can’t be like that. Work is work.”

In the past, a detective he worked a joint investigation with once told him that no case was too small or too big. And Benzai wholeheartedly agreed.

He took the cup to a small sink, rinsed it under running water and put it on a dish drainer.

“Thank you for the coffee,” he murmured quietly, and the officer on duty who
sat on a nearby folding pipe chair reading a newspaper called out to him.

“What? Are you going somewhere again?”

The man wore sandals on his bare feet, his dark hair was streaked with gray, and his face was plowed with wrinkles, but the expression on it was that of kindhearted person.

“Yes, I am,” Benzai smiled.

He planned to comb the town’s outskirts with a fine-toothed comb once again in hopes of maybe finding some lead.

“You sure have it rough. But there’s barely any street lighting in these parts, so take my advice and better do it tomorrow.”

The concerned warning was barely out of the police officer’s mouth when it happened.

“!”
“Wh-what?”

Both Benzai and the officer threw their heads back.

The s.p.a.ce in front of the police station was suddenly flooded with glaring light that came together with a roar.

Unlike the local police officer, bewildered into motionless stupor at the unusual happening, Benzai pulled himself together in no time.

"It’s a helo! And that helo is…’

It was a helicopter used for Scepter 4’s operations.

Benzai promptly threw the door that at the moment weighted twice its weight open and slipped through, running down to the parking lot. Both hands at his face shielding it from the gusts of wind, he gazed up. He wasn’t wrong: the familiar-looking helicopter was about to land.

“Hey! What is it? What’s going on?” The ageing officer ran up to Benzai after his slow start.

Under the two’s gazes, the helicopter touched the ground without an accident, and the hatch opened. Out of there a person Benzai least expected to see appeared.

“Benzai-san!” It was Fuse Daiki. “We caught him!” he shouted.

Indeed, the person Fuse was holding next to him was none other than the thief in question, Tamada Genji. He was handcuffed, pointedly looking away and seemingly sulking.

That alone was already astounding, but, to Benzai’s compounding shock…

“Benzai-kun.”

…Munakata Reishi in person appeared from behind Fuse.

Smiling, he informed Benzai, “Now, please pack your bags. We’re going back.”

For once, unusually for him, Benzai couldn’t muster an answer, gaping was all he managed.

On his head, Munakata wore a headlight that emitted a strong beam of light.

“Are they your colleagues?” The police officer next to Benzai asked, still struggling with amazement. “They sure know how to make a flashy entrance.”

Benzai couldn’t reply, but on the inside he agreed with the man wholeheartedly.

Making a quick job of packing his things, he jumped into the helicopter with Munakata and Fuse already on board. With the hatch door closed behind him, the rotor started smoothly spinning, and, having gained enough liftoff power, the helicopter took off. In the air, it swiveled its nose, making a big turn, and set course south.

Benzai glanced at the ground beneath and saw the ageing police officer at the parking lot waving his hands with all his might. In the blink of an eye, the town beneath became tiny as the helicopter now smoothly flew in the sky above the wilderness as if sliding across it.

It was only then that Benzai could gather his thoughts enough to start asking questions.

“So,” he started out with a short preface, “what exactly is going on,  Captain?”

Munakata, arms folded across his chest, was busy observing the view outside the window. He still wore the headlight, possibly having gotten too attached to it to take it off, although he did have the sense to turn it off. His gaze was focused on a point somewhere far off in the distance.

Benzai had a ton of questions to ask him. First of all, why was Munakata even here? And why was Fuse? How come did they even join up and work together?

But the most obvious question was, how did they manage to catch the elusive Tamada on the run?

Said Tamada sat, keeping his head dejectedly low, apparently resigned to his fate, and only kept mumbling weakly, “That’s foul play, seriously. Why, geez.”

Fuse, who sat next to Tamada and kept an eye on him, noticed Benzai’s gaze and showed a strained smile, his face reading "I understand your feelings completely’.

“Benzai-kun,” Munakata, who was silent until now, suddenly spoke up. Benzai shifted his eyes to look at him and found that his superior was no longer gazing out the window, instead staring straight at him. “What do you think of this?”
“And by this you mean what exactly, sir?”
“Anything that you might have noticed, no matter how small. You have flown all around the country. Would you mind sharing with me everything that you thought and everything that occurred to you during that period?”

Actually, Benzai himself wished for the particulars of the situation to be shared with him first, but his superior officer’s order coupled with utter seriousness of Munakata’s face left Benzai overwhelmed and caving.

“Please let me think a moment, sir.” Benzai started sifting though his memories.

As a matter of fact, concerning that question, he had already had a few things figured out.

By no means was he blessed with genius insight or outstanding thinking ability, but he was careful enough not to overlook small details and tenacious enough to meticulously inspect them. Contrary to his calm and collected visage, he chose to build his career in the army, and after having acc.u.mulated experience as a member of the special operations squad, he was now an enthusiastic investigator.

“Frankly speaking, sir, at first, I was confused. In all likelihood, you already know this fact without me telling, Captain, but until now, statistically speaking, the strain crimes were mostly concentrated within the radius of 100km with the Dresden Slate in the center. If I’m not mistaken, this fact is attributed to the nature of the Slate, isn’t it?”

“It is indeed,” Munakata nodded. “It is also believed that for kings, similarly to the case with strains, there is a relation between the probability of their awakening and distance from the Slate. Except a few exceedingly rare instances, all the kings and strains are confirmed to awake to their powers within the boarders of the Kanto region and its outskirts.” He smiled a slightly ironic smile. “It should be fairly obvious, but trouble occurs where there are those who cause it. For that reason, Scepter 4 is almost permanently stationed in the capital where there are kings, their clans and strains. We, the guardians of law and order, are there because that’s where people who upset law and order are concentrated.”

“But this time,” Benzai took over Munakata’s train of thought, “strain-related incidents occured repeatedly in other regions of the country simultaneously. And this is exceedingly unusual in and of itself, in my opinion.”

Munakata gazed at Benzai with gentle eyes. To Benzai, it proved that his thinking wasn’t wrong, so he went on, his voice sounding a little more confident.

“As I flew all across j.a.pan, I noticed one more aspect concerning these crimes: it’s the fact that the strain perpetrators’ motives are all over the place. They each went to a different area, but it’s not like they were trying to pull off something really wicked. Although there are those among them who committed theft and mild violence, their main objectives were very varied, including fleeing from Scepter 4, visiting a mother’s grave and even having a cla.s.s reunion with old friends.”
“Hm? Wait? Isn’t that weird?” Fuse suddenly forced his way into the conversation. “Wasn’t Benzai-san needed at the scene because they’d committed some kind of crime?”
“It seems like the reports mixed facts with misinformation, I take it,” Munakata said slowly. “It is true that strains that committed crimes scattered across different regions. Witness testimonies were also real to a certain extent. However, there was someone who added bias to the information and made it so that Scepter 4 had to be mobilized. I believe that’s what happened.”

Both Fuse and Benzai understood who that someone was without Munakata having to spell out his name.

Kounomura Zen"ichi, obviously. There was no one else who would attempt, much less succeed, in doing something like that.

“That’s where 2 big questions arose,” Benzai went back to the topic. “The first one is, how did he identify the strains that committed an offense? And the other one is, how did he make them take action of their own volition? Tamada,” Benzai suddenly called Tamada’s name. “Why did you leave the capital and run here? Did someone order you to? Or were you, perhaps, threatened into it?”

Tamada lifted his head and stared at Benzai. “Heeh.” He wrinkled his nose at the root, and faced the other way.

That made Benzai remember that Tamada was a man with strong antisocial tendencies. That is, the gesture probably meant to convey that he had no slightest intention to tell anything to "the authorities’ dogs’.

“…” In that case, getting this man to take action he wanted him to take should have been difficult even for someone like Kounomura. Or did Kounomura just pay him handsomely?

“Benzai-kun, I thank you for sharing your thoughts and findings with me. I’m glad I got to hear it.” Arms still folded across his chest, Munakata shut his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again and smiled.

Benzai gave him a small bow. He had no idea how useful, if at all, his opinion was to Munakata, but at the very least he got to express the questions and concerns that were on his mind at the moment. Now Munakata would share his information with him, he expected. Benzai really wanted to know how they managed to catch Tamada.

“Well, putting it in simple terms…” Munakata replied smoothly. “I have found an answer to the two questions you mentioned, and that is precisely why myself and Fuse-kun were able to apprehend Tamadshi.”

Benzai felt a slight shiver run through him.

The way Munakata phrased that was nonchalant, but the contents were loaded with immense implications.

Munakata then laid out his reasoning without rush. Needless to say that Benzai, Fuse and even the strain criminal Tamada listened to his every word with utmost attention.

†

Munakata Reishi’s intention to gather back together the special operations squad members incapacitated one way or another due to Kounomura’s scheming, was taking shape and forming one big current. At the time Munakata was laying out the core of it in the sky above Hokkaido’s wilderness, there was one member of the special operation squad that could only weep, complain and grumble.

“Whyyy?!”

It was Doumyouji Andy, half-forced by Munakata to come up with the media countermeasures and deal with issues concerning the lawsuits.

According to the role distribution within the organization, it would be the job for the public relations section and the legal department.

Lately, at times Doumyouji had to be a public relations officer coming up with a response to the press concerning Akiyama’s molestation charges and Scepter 4’s property damage reports, and at other times a law work liaison handling legal post-factual measures together with the attorney Munakata had commissioned.

Both of those fields were Doumyouji’s major weak points.

“Uugh.”

Still, he tried his d.a.m.nest at those unfamiliar areas.

“Uuuugh!”

In appearance, he somehow managed when it came to talking to the press or consulting with the attorney. Whether it was effective or not aside, talking itself was by no means Doumyouji’s weakness, and the attorney was extremely capable, so by deciding to do what that man said for now Doumyouji somehow managed to keep up the appearances.

The real problem was the time when he had to draw up and sort doc.u.ments in the middle of the night all by himself like he was doing at the moment.

Paperwork was something Doumyouji hated with pa.s.sion. To him, the necessity to draw up such doc.u.ments was utterly inexplicable. He knew that keeping records was essential, but in his view, it was summed up with "it’s fine as long as I remember, so why bother’. When he claimed it out loud once, lips pursed, he got scolded.

Partly, such a view was due to his genius-level ability to effortlessly grasp the essence of things through his intuition alone without the need to share words and definitions, but most of those around him usually chalked it up as him being a moron. It was the same with Munakata’s latest order in regards to Doumyouji, the young troop’s position change was perceived as punishment.

Of course, Doumyouji himself thought of it the same way, his stress building up like that of an elementary schoolboy ordered to take a dictation test as a detention until finally reaching its peak and making him arrive to a decision unbecoming of an adult member of society.

"Alright! Time to get the h.e.l.l ou— err, I mean, to take a break!’

Once this conclusion had been reached, he acted quickly. A flashlight in hand, he was heading towards the exit from the data processing room with soft and stealthy footsteps of a thief.

"Let’s sleep! Oh, and play a little. With Kuro.’

Heart racing in thrill of antic.i.p.ation, he had only one last step to take for his getaway to succeed when the door suddenly opened.

“Gueh!” a cackle much like that of a strangled goose escaped Doumyouji.

The one standing in the doorway was none other than his natural enemy, Fushimi Saruhiko. In one hand the newcomer held a lantern shaped electric torch. Illuminated by the bluish-white light, he looked positively like a ghost.

Frankly, considering the circ.u.mstances, Doumyouji got really scared.

“Uwhoa! Aeeh? Aeeh?” In his panic, Doumyouji started dancing a strange dance.

Fushimi let out a sigh and ordered cooly, “Speak j.a.panese, Doumyouji.”
“Ah, erm. Uhmm. Fushimi-san, weren’t you in America?”
“I came back.” The expression the man in question wore on his face silently but eloquently informed that he had to because all the others proved so unreliable.

Fushimi threw a quick glance at the desk Doumyouji worked at earlier. Half-heartedly started paperwork was scattered all across the top of the desk, illuminated by candlesticks.

“Heheh.” Doumyouji ducked his head, unapologetic in the slightest, scratching the back of it.

Fushimi let out another sigh. “How should I put it… as expected, I guess? Oh well, whatever.” Expression smoothing out, he added, “I’ll help you out.”

Doumyouji’s countenance reflected his surprise.

Fushimi was already heading towards the desk. “It can’t be helped. Lots of things need to be done. You, too, come here and get to—”
“I’m sorry, Fushimi-san!” Doumyouji interrupted him with a clap of his joined together hands and an out of the blue apology. Then, turning with a swift and practiced movement, “But I’m at my limit!” he shouted and ran out of the room at a speed that could only be described as lightning.

For a while, Fushimi just stood there in mute amazement. Not even a sharp man like him could foresee this kind of development.

Until finally…

“That f.u.c.ker!!!”

Unearthing the part of himself from his Homura days, Fushimi turned on his heel, dead set on catching Doumyouji, and gave chase.