Diabolus Ex Machina
Ring ring. Ring ring.
The phone that sat on Fukuzawa’s desk made a peculiar sound. It was ringing. But who could it be? This phone was a special phone. The number was known by only a few select people in this world.
With trembling fingers, Fukuzawa gripped the shaft of the receiver. He stroked it slowly with his index finger before bringing it up to his mouth. Lips quivering, he managed to ask a single question.
“Hewwo?” he whispered horse-ly.
“Hello. Tis me,” the voice on the other end replied.
“But how? Why? Why would you ring me? And why now?” Fukuzawa sputtered.
“It's an emergency I'm afraid. I need you. Please listen to my request.”
Fukuzawa hummed in response, running his tongue thoughtfully over his lips. The headmaster of Knottingham Trent, asking HIM for a favour? Though he must be desperate, after all, to ring this number that only the headmasters of each university had would suggest there was no alternative to this man’s problems. Their hatred and natural urge for competition forbade casual contact.
“Go on,” Fukuzawa said lofitly, narrowing his eyes.
“Knottingham Trent has been closed down. Forever.” Deus whispered sharply, the words choking him.
“Oh?” Fukuzawa failed to keep the smirk out his voice. “And whatever for?”
“After poor Jaeha was shot down by those police men and many more nameless background characters killed in the resulting riot, parents have begun to pull their kids out of school. And all these arrest warrants for attempting to buy coke! Ofsted have said that a school so depraved of morals has no right to continue its teaching. But now our remaining students have nowhere left to go. Headmaster Fukuzawa, I implore, nay, I beg of you, to please consider taking my humble students into your care. After all, we did the same, when Oxbridge befell a similar fate. What say you?” Deus asked, holding his breath.
“I'm afraid we are at full capacity,” Fukuzawa replied, immediately slamming the phone back down. He had to cater for his thirty whole students after all, and how would the university’s reputation suffer if the likes of Yuki Amano came to Oxbridge?? Fukazawa shivered in disgust. While he was Oxbridge president he would never allow such disgraced students into the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.
“Who was that?” Ranpo asked, getting out from under Fukazawa’s desk, licking his lips.
“Let’s just say someone will have to change his name from Deus Ex Machina...to Diabolus…” Fukazawa said, turning toward the window in his office and staring out of it angstily. “And here I am, in my ivory tower...watching us all go down in flames. To think we were once competitors, and now look at you. I always knew you never had it in you to be headmaster of any institution. And you promised me Knottingham Trent was more to your speed, a university that had nothing to lose, you said...and now look at what you’ve done. It was your hubris, thinking you had all the power, but what did it take? Just a single Ofsted inspection to blow down your house of cards. Ironic, considering how your university was made of cardboard. To you, Deus.” Fukazawa held up a wine glass of cocaine, “May you die in an inferno that leaves no ashes. May you leave no mark on this Earth...though perhaps that is too late...the man who went down in history for killing an entire university. You did it, Deus. My god, you did it.”
“Daddy?” Ranpo asked through tightly shut doe-eyes,
“Ah yes,” Fukazawa turned to him, “You asked me a question. Well young one, that man was irrelevant, just another has-been begging for a handout.” Fukazawa ruffled Ranpo’s hair fondly, “But alas, the future comes for us all, and perhaps one day you too will be a figment of the past, simply another has-been...ah! But what am I saying? Until tomorrow, sweet child of mine...until tomorrow.”