Chapter Text
Tachihara Michizou walked through the empty corridors of the Mori Corporation skyscraper, yawning and lazily stretching. It was nice to finally return to the walls of the Port Mafia after exactly four days of long absence.
The reason for this was because Tachihara had been given a solo mission. The leader of a certain criminal organization had gotten it into his head that if he rebelled and united with other small gangs, they would be able to subjugate Mori and take his place as Boss. This would have been much more alarming if the organization itself had not been laughably weak.
For God's sake, they were smuggling fish! It looked like a worm had declared it would trample an elephant.
However, treacherous ideas cannot be ignored and so it was decided to send an official representative of the Mafia to "settle the situation".
Tachihara didn't look like a diplomat. The moment the Boss ordered Tachihara to take on that role, the smugglers' fate had been decided against them. It was somewhat disappointing that they couldn't give Tachihara the satisfaction of shooting due to the fact that they were all weaklings who had never held anything more dangerous than a half-dead swordfish in their lives. However, due to the fact that there were so many of them, Michizou didn't get too bored while he was busy eliminating them. It didn't help the smugglers that the small fry they had hired as security guards realized the gravity of their situation when they saw Tachihara amusing himself by shooting like a kid in a candy store and retreated afraid of incurring punishment.
Dishonest cowards, all of them.
In fact, Tachihara finished his work in less than a day. It was just that the smugglers' main base was outside Yokohama. If it weren't for this small fact, he would have returned much earlier.
But what was especially annoying was that due to his side mission, he was not involved in the larger mission that had been in the planning stages before he left. He had heard whispers here and there, but he had no idea what it was all about. The unknown only made him more curious. He quickened his steps to Black Lizard's office to find his comrades and find out more.
"Tachihara," Hirotsu greeted him with a nod of the head, "I see everything went smoothly for you."
"That's right."
Tachihara broke into a wide grin, showing all his teeth, remembering his recent battle, but stopped and quickly pulled himself together. After all, he hadn't come to brag, but to conduct reconnaissance.
"Grandpa, you better tell me what all this fuss was about."
Tachihara practically leaned against the older man, staring at him intently. Hirotsu, ignoring Tachihara's usual antics, pulled a cigarette from the pack. The lighter clicked, the man lit up, and the first clouds of smoke filled the room. There was no one else around except the two of them. Hirotsu only smiled mysteriously, continuing to smoke, but made no effort to satisfy his subordinate's curiosity.
What a sly old fox.
"Hey, stop ignoring me," the young man bristled.
"Ask politely and maybe I'll answer," Hirotsu suggested.
"No way! If you don't want to then don't. I'll find someone else."
Tachihara turned away angrily and stomped towards the exit. He hadn't even taken five steps when he heard the tired sigh of an old man behind him.
"There's not much to tell," Hirotsu shared.
Tachihara stood up abruptly and looked at his senior colleague in anticipation of an explanation, restraining the urge to grin at his victory.
"As far as I heard, this operation involves kidnapping some political figure. However, you will find out about it yourself. The capture team should return to base soon," Hirotsu said in a bored tone. After thinking for a moment, he added: "By the way, they are led by Gin."
Tachihara clicked his tongue in annoyance. Why did this silent bastard get all the cool missions while he had to deal with a bunch of idiots who made his clothes smell like fish guts? It was so unfair! But orders were orders. You couldn't disobey them or you'd be thrown in the trash.
Nothing to do. He'd have to wait. Tachihara complained about Gin in his head for a while longer before deciding that he might as well spend his time usefully. He stopped by to report on the work he'd done to the Boss himself, then found a shower to wash away the stress of the trip, and finished his route with a quick raid on a hot dog stand near the skyscraper. By evening, he'd completely forgotten why he'd wanted to find out the details of the mysterious mission in the first place. It was just some kidnapping. It was probably something boring. It happened all the time.
***
The next day, Tachihara arrived in a good mood. He had a spring in his step, bright red wired headphones sticking out of his ears, the sounds of metal coming loudly from them. Michizo was oblivious to the rest of the world, ignoring Hirotsu, a walking museum relic who cursing contemptuously at the first screems of the lead singer.
Tachihara likes to play the same song on repeat next to him, because it's always funny to watch the disappointment unfold on Hirotsu's old face when the tune of a hated melody inevitably gets stuck in his head for the entire day.
It's like a small petty payback for all the moralizing that Tachihara has to endure from Hirotsu.
However, it seems that Hirotsu doesn't want to deal with him this morning. For his obvious provocation, Tachihara practically gets a bullet in the forehead. After all, the old man is terribly boring and doesn't know how to appreciate modern art. Tachihara rolls up his headphones and hides them in his pants pocket. It's not so interesting without the main listener.
Having nothing better to do, he decided to look for other people. So far only identical empty faces have passed him - eternally busy with petty work and unremarkable flunkies. Tachihara stops to eavesdrop on their conversations and find out new gossip, but so far they are only talking about everyday things.
When his not-so-subtle presence is discovered, he gently weaves in the conversation, trying to steer it in another direction. It doesn't help much. The men are either too afraid of him and his superior position, or too stupid to understand what's expected of them. Maybe both. Or maybe they just don't have anything exciting going on in their lives which is odd: he remembers starting out in the Mafia.
There wasn't a single day without assignments that might seem harmless at first glance, but ultimately turned into a minor disaster.
For example, he was once ordered to order a cup of green tea for Elise at a cafe, but the waiter got something mixed up and brought Tachihara oolong. He doesn't quite understand the difference, but Elise threw a fit and he almost lost his life. She was an ability. Why could she drink at all? In any case, he managed to calm the girl down by promising a double portion of any dessert she liked. She was immediately delighted and emptied his wallet with her demands.
It could be said that this was a turning point in his career as a mafioso, because Mori remembered the face and name of the newcomer who was able to "get along" with children and at every opportunity appointed him as a nanny not only for Elise, but sometimes even for Q. And then it was not far to notice Tachihara's personal qualities and skills in combat, which brought him to his current position in record time.
The men talked for a while about what they would do this weekend, stealing glances at Tachihara all the while. Michizo became bored, and when the thread of their mundane conversation was lost on him once again, he disappeared down the hallway unnoticed.
It wasn't long before a more familiar face passed by him this time. Half of it, actually. It was Gin. The tips of her black hair practically hit him in the face as she passed.
She is so wrapped up in herself that she doesn't even notice him, which has never happened in all the time they have known each other. Constant hypervigilance is written into her genetic code.
"Hey, bastard," Tachihara calls, hurrying after the girl.
She didn't flinch or turn around to look at him. So she noticed, after all. She'd just ignored him. Rudely.
"No time for you," Gin said quietly but authoritatively, rushing off in an unknown direction.
He still felt uneasy hearing her voice after so many years of communicating through notes and gestures. He thought she was mute. He thought she was him. There was no telling how many more secrets she kept, but he couldn't complain without calling himself a hypocrite.
Gin's menacing appearance cut through the crowds like a cruiser cutting through the waves. She sped up. She was always faster than him, and if Tachihara didn't set the same hurried pace, he might lose sight of her.
"What happened?" Tachihara persisted, running up and settling down next to her.
She glanced at him briefly, as if resigning herself to the fact that he had stuck to her and would not back down. This gave him an excuse to look at Gin, and he realized that she looked exhausted. The whites of her eyes were surrounded by the branching threads of broken capillaries, there were barely perceptible traces of dirt and dust on her clothes, and on the cheek opposite Tachihara, vertically, there was a thin red stripe left by a knife or something equally sharp, and it disappeared under the corner of her mask. Someone got her, which in itself was a miracle.
Tachihara suddenly remembered the reason why he hadn't seen another member of Black Lizard in a long time. Interest in the matter flared up in his chest again, pushing the momentary worry for his partner's well-being to the background. Gin, after all, was far from a softie and could cope with a small scratch.
"Is this politician really that quick?" Michizou teased.
"Former military man."
Short and to the point. As expected from Akutagawa. She hasn't kicked him out yet although she could easily so it won't be a problem if he continues to interfere in her affairs.
"And where are we going now?"
She almost stopped to look at him with irritation, but in the end she just sighed meekly:
"Kouyou-san."
Their torture expert. He was a tough nut to crack, this politician, since he didn't crack in Gin's hands. Judging by her appearance, she immediately got to work on him upon arrival without even having a proper rest. And when Gin is tired, she is a merciless storm.
Things were getting more interesting with each new revelation. Tachihara wanted to hear more about the Mafia's new captive, but his instinct for self-preservation told him to stop pestering Gin even more than he already was. Judging by the subtle twitching of Gin's fingers, Tachihara was already annoying her enough that she was fighting not to stab him in the stomach as a warning. Instead, Michizou merely nodded, keeping pace with the girl.
When they found Ozaki Kouyou around the next corner, the woman seemed to have already anticipated their arrival, striding elegantly toward them with a proud, all-knowing air. Her kimono made no noise as she walked, giving the impression that she was not walking but floating, that she was not a human, but a beautiful deity who had descended to mere mortals to shine in her splendor. Unlike Gin, she was in no hurry at all confident in herself and her interrogation skills.
"Gin, there you are."
Kouyou smiled at the girl. Those who don't know her might think it was a warm, friendly smile, but in reality it was just a facade. Kouyou-san's heart was as dark as any mafioso's.
When Kouyou notices the small addition to their ranks in the form of one curious Tachihara Michizou, the corner of her lips twitches in displeasure, momentarily ruining her perfect image of a woman. She doesn't like to be disturbed in her work, and Tachihara is quite loud, even when he's not trying to be. Tachihara knows this and vows to remain completely silent if he's allowed to be present. Kouyou-san seems to be skeptical of his assurances, but she doesn't refuse his pleas, only threatening to throw him out of the interrogation room at the first sound he makes without permission.
The three of them descended into the underground chambers where captives were usually kept. The concrete walls echoed their footsteps, creating sounds that alerted both the captive and the guard to new guests.
When they reached their destination, the first thing that caught their eye was Chuuya-san's back, his arms crossed over his chest and his body blocking the politician's view. The red-haired man didn't turn around to look at the new arrivals, continuing to stare intently at the captive tied to the chair.
Besides the two of them, there was another man standing in the back of the room, leaning against the wall, namely old man Hirotsu.
This damn old man managed to get involved in everything. And why was Tachihara never invited to the party again? Just because he specializes in shooting doesn't mean he's incompetent in other areas.
Tachihara's indignation knew no bounds, but he was not going to break his oath. Without a word, Tachihara and Gin approached Hirotsu and surrounded him on both sides. Hirotsu raised an eyebrow at Michizou, as if asking what his charge was doing here, but he also remained silent. Their combined intimidating appearance was intended to create an oppressive, suffocating atmosphere, further straining the captive.
Speaking of which, Tachihara finally decided to find out what the politician looked like and slowly raised his eyes to examine him, but at that moment, he froze as if paralyzed because he was completely unprepared for what he saw. His enthusiasm instantly turned to horror, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head, leaving him speechless and stunned.
They've got to be kidding. This is not fucking true. Seriously, what the fuck?! Why did they pick him? Why, out of all the possible options, did he have to be the one captured? Who the hell would he surrender to?
Tachihara felt the blood drain from his face, leaving him deathly pale. He quickly looked down at his shoes, barely breathing, hoping the man hadn't noticed his reaction. But his heart was beating so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. His palms were sweating and his thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind.
He was in trouble. He was in deep. So deep that he couldn't see a way back. Completely and irrevocably.
He should have calmed down, pulled himself together and acted like a grown-up. But instead he let himself get bored and meddled in other people's business, which now turned into a disaster. Why did karma decide to strike today? Why did it decide to remind him of itself at this moment?
Tachihara doesn't know and may never even find out because the captive in front of him is General Hayashi Yusuke.
His father.
This fucking asshole who is capable of giving away his son's cover with one wrong word and sending him to the grave just like he's wanted for so long.
Tachihara pressed himself even more tightly against the wall, acutely aware that if anything happened, there was only one way out of this basement. And it wasn't a given that he would be able to get out when he was surrounded by several of the most powerful assassins and ability users in the entire Port Mafia. And even if he did get out, he wouldn't be on the street, but in a building with hundreds of other mafioso personally chosen by Mori for guard.
He would definitely die today. Tachihara's breathing suddenly caught at the realization. A shudder ran down his toes.
Tachihara have to calm down. It's not over yet. Calm down! Get a grip, damn it! That's an order. An order!
Yes, exactly.
He must follow orders at any cost.
Tachihara takes a few careful breaths, hoping they won't be heard. The breathing exercise helps suppress his panic. Tachihara squeezes his eyes shut. He tries to focus on the texture of the concrete behind him, the fur of his jacket tickling his neck, the weight of his dual guns ready to help him out in a pinch. He doesn't have time for this nonsense. He can handle this. All he needs to do is survive the interrogation unnoticed. Easy.
He rubbed the plaster on his nose unconsciously. The urge to rip it off so he could mentally switch to his calmer, more collected Hunting Dog persona was damn strong.
He must have been acting strange for too long because he felt a sharp jab in his ribs from Hirotsu.
Oh, yes. He can't deviate from his standard behavior. It will only attract unnecessary attention. With one last mental wave of self-pity Tachihara straightened up, grinning cheekily at the old man as if nothing had happened.
Tachihara Michizou from the Port Mafia has been waiting for this interrogation for a long time and he's going to enjoy it to the fullest.
He once again adopted a terrifying yet relaxed appearance, hoping that the dim lighting and his new appearance would be enough to prevent Hayashi Yusuke from suspecting that the newly arrived young mafioso was connected to his once missing son.
With nothing to look at but the interrogation scene, Tachihara studies his father's face, comparing it to his memories.
Hayashi Yusuke is a fairly tall man, even sitting down. Michizou is still a head shorter, although there is some chance that this will change in the future. Hayashi has short black hair cut simply in a military style, unchanged from five, ten, thirty years ago. Due to his career in the army, he still has a strong build that no one would expect from a politician.
And since when did he go into politics? Hayashi did nothing but throw away his officer rank, flaunting it at every opportunity.
Apparently age had taken its toll. New wrinkles and a slight graying of the temples were proof of that. Only his eyes were still young, burning with pride and defiance. Eyes the color of molten amber, burning with their intensity and framed by very long eyelashes. This is what Michizou would look like if he lived to old age. This is what Shun might look like.
Suddenly a fleeting thought comes to him, finally calming his mind, that of the two of them, Hayashi has a higher chance of dying. Knowing his character, he will never give any information to the enemy if it can somehow harm Japan or its people. Even if he does not know anything worthwhile, he will not beg for his life, but will accept death by torture with a stone face like a true patriot to the very marrow of his bones.
Tachihara imagined Hayashi's dead body falling at his feet, disfigured, tortured, and felt nothing. Did that make him a monster if he didn't mind his father being killed right there before his eyes? Would he cry? Would he feel sorrow or regret? Would he hate this woman with the face of a goddess and the soul of a demon and the short, red-haired man who could bend gravity itself to his will?
So with such thoughts in his head, several hours pass for Tachihara, providing a blessed distraction from worrying about his own safety.
His thoughts were so loud and overwhelming that he didn't even think about the reason why the Port Mafia had kidnapped his father. What did the Boss want from a scumbag like Hayashi? Knowledge? Money?
Meanwhile, Kouyou-san did not spare Hayashi for a second, thinking up new and sophisticated ways to hurt the man in front of her. Her slender fingers, like the hands of an artist, skillfully operated various special devices, creating a bloody picture of suffering on Hayashi's body.
Chuuya-san standing to the side, asked the same questions, his voice monotonous, like a metronome beating out the rhythm of torture.
But the questions remained unanswered. Hayashi silently accepted the torture, groaning from time to time and when the pain completely clouded his mind, squeezing out a firm and short "no". As Tachihara predicted, he does not give in, even when there is not a single area of his skin that has not experienced the principles of Kouyou-san's strange torture instruments.
"We'll finish for today, Hayashi-san," Chuuya finally announces. He, like Kouyou, is quite irritated by the refusal to cooperate. "We'll see each other again tomorrow. And it's better to tell you everything, otherwise the consequences will be unpleasant."
The entire Black Lizard and Kouyou begin to quietly retreat up the stairs, while Chuuya continues to threaten Hayashi. Tachihara is simply glad to have the opportunity to get away from this stuffy cell and its occupant.
His legs carry him purposefully up, up, up. He earns an having fun look from Gin and a snort from Kouyou-san. He doesn't care that he makes himself look like a child wanting to run home after a day of boring lessons that he's had to sit motionless at his desk. He's not coming down here again until he knows for sure that General Main Asshole has gone to rest with his ancestors.
Meanwhile, Chuuya also stops chatting idly with Hayashi and hurries to leave after the other mafioso, but when he only has a few last steps left to overcome, a hoarse voice shouts after him:
"Ginger doesn't suit you."
Chuuya-san gets angry, blushes, and goes back down to personally punch the tied-up Hayashi in the nose. The force of the blow causes the captive's head to snap back. It looks both painful and anatomically unnatural. If it weren't for the lack of the characteristic crunch of the vertebrae, it would seem that Chuuya broke Hayashi's neck along with his nose.
Hayashi only grins disgustingly at Chuuya's anger and returns to his previous position. Blood flows profusely from his nose, collecting on his lips and running down his chin in streams, and Hayashi spits it onto the floor at his feet.
While everyone wonders if their prisoner has broken down from the torture he's endured, Tachihara simply feels like a cornered antelope facing a bloodthirsty predator. Those amber eyes, framed by long eyelashes, burn a hole in his back, as if trying to mentally dissect him and get to his heart, to his very soul.
He knows for sure that the last statement was addressed to him.