I do not own SDK.
This fic is inspired by one of those interesting little extracts you find in the manga. I believe the Taishirou meeting was in Vol. 34 or 33. The rest is made-up, and contains some spoilers…
And Your Opinion is?
Fubuki stared quietly at the reports in front of him. Statistics, facts, reports, opinions; everything eventually flew into a blur, and quite an unpleasant one at that. Out of all the numbers, words and other random pictures Chinmei somehow liked to put in, one fact stood out from the rest.
The Mibu Army had failed at another assassination attempt on Tokugawa's life.
The Mibu Army needed to be upgraded.
Generally, that would have been quite an easy job to do – either you increase the present forces' prowess or you increased the absolute amount of the force. No problem visible, for as far as he could tell, Hishigi had not lost his touch in repeatedly cloning and creating new people to serve the Mibu.
Either way that called for a decision to be made between increasing quantity or increasing quality.
That called for a meeting among the four Yuan, Hishigi, Tokito and him.
That called for hell.
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Despite his misgivings, Fubuki had summoned them. It was a necessity after all, if the Mibu clan was to be well protected.
Slouching at his usual place, he calmly announced, "The Mibu Army needs upgrading due to their poor performance. Shall we increase the quantity or quality? Opinions, please."
"Well…" Hishigi stared forlornly at his boots, "I'll do whatever Fubuki wants."
Tokito laughed in a manner strangely akin to a cat running its claws over a blackboard. "My, my, what you say really does not coincide with that sad look on your face, don't you agree, Fubuki-san?"
"If this is all," Yuan grumbled, before Fubuki could comment, "can I go home now?"
Fubuki restrained his patience. "And your opinions?"
"It is a rather sad face, I would say."
"Can I go home now?"
"Whatever it is that you wish, Fubuki."
"I meant, about the Mibu Army."
"It is as you wish," Hishigi repeated, still staring at his boots.
"What is your opinion, Fubuki-sama? Isn't it a sad face?" Tokito went on, twirling a strand of hair.
"Can't I go home?" Yuan mumbled.
"My opinion is not made. I would like your opinions." Fubuki stared at the floor as if it were its fault.
"My opinion is…" Hishigi paused, and Fubuki almost killed him with his glare when he heard the, "… your opinion, Fubuki."
"I'm sure Fubuki-san knows best," Tokito went on, "Either way, I agree that we must upgrade the Mibu Army to crush those pathetic humans."
"Can I go home if I say please?"
Fubuki closed his eyes. "Never mind. The meeting is adjourned."
"As you wish, Fubuki."
"I'm sure you know best, Fubuki-san."
"Great, I can go home now."
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He must be really desperate, Fubuki realized, really, totally, maniacally desperate to be doing this. Not that it was his fault anyway; it was near impossible to get an opinion out of the Taishirou. Thus, he had to ask someone else, especially since it was regarding a matter as important as the efficiency of the Mibu Army.
Still he found it impossible to justify questioning the Goyousei for their opinion.
He stared at the six people before him – or rather, the five people and one undead before him, and carefully phrased his question again, "The Mibu Army needs upgrading, Goyousei, so tell me, should I increase the quality or the quantity of the army?"
There was silence all around then Shinrei suddenly burst out, "But we are unworthy to give our opinion! Fubuki-sama!"
"My, my, peace and love! Peace and love, people! Why bother over such menial things?" Chinmei grinned, fanning himself with one of his oddly patterned fans. "You must learn to loosen up, Fubuki, and think about da luv!"
"Oh, I wouldn't like to think too much," Saishi wailed, her hands pressed against her cheeks, "That would ruin my complexion and make it all pimply and flaky!"
"Don't worry, Saishi," Saisei commented calmly, "I'll give you a full facial cleansing and massage, along with my special herbal skin treatment to ensure your skin remains smooth and white."
Fubuki coughed. "Opinions, please? How about you, Hotaru?"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"… I hate water."
Impatience turning into desperation, he turned to the only fully sane person he knew amongst the Goyousei. "What do you say, Tai Haku? Quality or quantity?"
The leader of the five raised his compassionate eyes to him, and delivered a gaze so filled with pity it would put Mother Teresa to shame. "Is there a need for an army, Fubuki-sama? Can't we not live in peace with the humans?"
"Tai Haku! How can you speak to Fubuki-sama like this? We, the great, magnificent, gorgeous, wise and surprisingly youthful Mibu clan are destined to destroy and enslave the human race!"
"Shinrei, do calm down. You aren't doing your blood pressure any good by blowing up like this."
"Don't bother about him, Saisei! I can feel my wrinkles coming up already! Oh, do something about it quickly!"
"Love and peace, people, love and peace! Why think about such cruel things as war?"
"… I don't like taking bathes because of that."
"Hotaru! We're talking about serious stuff here! Stop being so self-centred! Why are you always only thinking about yourself instead of the Mibu clan? As the defenders of the Mibu clan, we must…"
"Shinrei, your blood pressure is way past the healthy level."
"Saisei! Deal with my complexion, now! Forget Shinrei! It's probably just calcium deficiency!"
"There is no need for war, Fubuki-sama. I think we should lean towards peace with the human race. There is much we can learn from them."
"Peace and love! Peace and love! Nothing's greater than peace and love!"
"…I don't like you either, Shinrei."
"Meeting adjourned." Fubuki endured the chaos a little longer before repeating even more loudly, "Meeting adjourned!"
In the end, he had no choice but to get up and walk out of his room. Strolling down the corridor, he caught a glimpse of Yuan tossing one of his random toys around.
"Yuan."
"Yeah? What's up?"
"I have a mission for you."
"Again? What is it?"
"Clear the pest in my room."
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Ordinarily, this was a room that Fubuki would never go near to unless it was absolutely necessary. Given the fact, however, that Yuan was busy kicking people about in his room, and he still hadn't gained any insightful opinions from anyone, he really had no choice but to enter the Red Room.
"Greeting, Your Majesty. May your eyes shine forever in guidance of the Mibu clan."
"Why, thank you, Fubuki." He could barely tell, but he was sure the Red King was surprised at his presence. "What brings you here today?"
"Well… I would like to upgrade the Mibu Army, and I would like Your Majesty's opinion on whether increasing the quantity or quality of the army would be better?"
"Ah, Fubuki, that would be one of the greatest questions of all time. As one of the greatest philosophers once said: "Think not how it will end, but how it will begin. Think not how it will begin, but how it will progress. Think not how it will progress, but how it will grow. Quality or quantity? Indeed, indeed."
"…"
"…"
"And your opinion, sir, would be…?"
"Why, to read more, Fubuki. Reading is good for you. It is not just the body that needs exercise, but the mind as well."
"I meant, about the army, sir."
The Red King waved a vague hand in his direction, the look on his face indicating that he was already starting to lose concentration. "I'm sure you know best, Fubuki. Anyway, since you are here already, why don't you tell me about how Kyo is progressing? I'm sure he is making such wonderful progress, growing stronger each day and…"
By then, Fubuki had already droned out.
By then, the Red King was too engrossed in the topic to care.
By then, one full day had passed.
By then, Fubuki was starting to doubt it was possible to gain anyone's opinion in Mibu.
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Sitting at his porch that night, Fubuki had stared at the star-lit night and sighed. Things had been so much better in the past, he remembered, when his wife was still around… when Tokito was still his daughter… when Mura Masa was still his friend. At least, Mura Masa gave concrete opinions when it was asked for. At least Mura Masa knew how to get opinions from other people.
Mura Masa, he realized, would have settled this issue among the Taishirou one full day ago. No matter how hard he tried, Fubuki mused mournfully, he really wasn't quite as good at being the leader of the Taishirou as Mura Masa had been.
If Mura Masa would be here now, what would he say?
"Why, Fubuki! I shouldn't think you should ask a dead man questions such as this! Death does wonderful things to your brain. For instance, I suddenly don't really care how the Mibu Army turns out in the end."
Ok. Scratch that. Mura Masa, when he wanted to, could be as vague and ambiguous as a vague and ambiguous object.
But the past was the past, and it was useless to linger on it. The present issue at hand was whether to increase the quantity or quality of the Mibu Army. He could not make up his mind, and apparently, there was no one in the Mibu who was willing to make it for him. Either way, he had to reach a decision.
Listing down the pros and cons didn't seem to help.
Flipping a coin was useless because the Mibu currency had the same pattern on both sides.
It was useless.
Everyone in Mibu is a disgusting person.
A meowing to his right drew his attention, and for a moment he half expected to see Tokito sitting there, eager to get his attention. Instead, it was the black kitten he had picked up earlier that day. Purring, it sidled up to him, nuzzling him as it demanded a good bout of ear scratching.
"Maybe you aren't that bad," he murmured, giving in to its demands, "At least you don't whine and complain and ramble… and laugh like nails against a blackboard."
Inspiration strikes at the weirdest times, and it was at this moment that it struck Fubuki.
He grabbed two pieces of paper.
He wrote quantity on one.
He wrote quality on the other.
He tossed both about for a while.
He dumped them both in front of the kitten.
He waited as it examined both.
It sniffed.
It circled.
It swatted one.
Fubuki picked the piece up with a smile. "Thank you for your opinion, my dear little kitten. I have taken it into consideration and have decided that it is the most viable one so far. Quantity it is, and quantity is shall be. Thank you, and good night. Meeting adjourned."
The kitten stared at Fubuki and slowly backed away. The man with the amazingly physically impossible hair was usually nice, and was surprisingly good at ear scratching. However, when one's owner takes to talking to oneself, it is time to back out of the room and hunt a few mice to give the owner time to cool down.
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"You've decided already?" Hishigi tilted his head quizzically. "How… nice. I shall do as you say."
"Well done, Fubuki-sama, though I am not surprised a man of your intellect should come to a conclusion so easily. It is obviously the best choice."
"…"
"So, do you want it carried out now? I've got some spare genes somewhere."
Fubuki smiled. "Oh yes. Carry it out."
"Yes, Fubuki."
"Yes, Fubuki-sama."
"…"
Yuan got up from his sit and slipped away, a frown drawing his eyebrows together. "What a shame," he muttered, "and I did so love seeing him tear himself to pieces trying to reach a decision."
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The End. Forgive whatever mistakes I made because I wrote this at like 2 in the morning…