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.
Notes:
Why Hayashi Yusuke? Well, I didn't want to use the names of the real Tachihara's parents in case (which is probably not) we are ever introduced to their names in canon, so as not to tie canon and my fiction together. Hayashi is the last name of Tachihara's VA. Yusuke is the name of Tachihara's brother's VA.
Also comments and kudos make my life better.
Chapter Text
Returning home, Tachihara falls onto his bed in his outerwear. He doesn't know what to do with the fact that his father has recognized him. It's a problem. He hoped that Hayashi would be too distracted by Chuuya and Kouyou-san to look at the faces of the other people in the room.
He relaxed too much. He had underestimated his father and paid the price. The only question was whether it would be higher... But then again, what else did he expect from this man? Hayashi had always been vigilant and had a keen eye. He probably tried to remember as many details about his captors as possible so that he could identify their weaknesses and exploit them when the opportunity arose.
Imagine his surprise when among the scoundrels of the Mafia, he discovered the face of his youngest son.
Did he feel the same confusion as Michizou? Or was it anger, joy, distrust...? Tachihara didn't know. His father had always been difficult to read. To someone unaccustomed to him, he might even seem emotionless.
As a child, Tachihara could still tell his father's mood from the slightest gestures, but now, seven years after their last meeting, this knowledge did not seem the most trustworthy. After all, people change not only in appearance. Tachihara knew this - he himself had changed a lot. Hayashi, no matter how stubborn he was, should have given in to the flow of time and changed too, at least a little.
Could this have been reflected in that last message? What was Hayashi trying to convey to him? His father was a traditionalist to the point of hating anything unnatural. The man placed discipline and strictness on a pedestal, adhering to them in every aspect of his life. If Tachihara had dyed his hair back when they were living under the same roof, his father would have been furious, he would have despised him for the fact that Michizou had dared to go against his rules so boldly. But in their current situation, Hayashi would hardly have paid attention to such a trifle just to reproach his son for his life choices. There was something else here. Who knows if it was just a statement of fact, a threat, sarcasm, or even a random guess? Perhaps it was Tachihara who was thinking up hidden meanings when Hayashi simply wanted to insult Chuuya's style. Or even Kouyou-san. There were too many red-haired people in that room at once.
One thing he knows for sure: they are not on equal footing.
Tachihara has more knowledge about his father than Mafia intelligence could ever have, no matter how forgotten it may seem.
Michizou knows that he has a large birthmark above his shoulder blade that vaguely resembles a star, his exact shoe size, his favorite brand of shaving foam, an irrational dislike of European accents, and even a mild allergy to asparagus.
Not to mention the more important observations he's made over the years of living together: he knows his habits, his way of thinking, the ideals he holds dear, the things he holds dear, and the things he hates. All the bits of information that make up the picture called Interesting Facts About Hayashi Yusuke.
Hayashi, in turn, also knows more about Tachihara than the Mafia has access to. His father knows his biography at least up to the years when they still communicated, knows his complexes and fears. He understands what to say to send Tachihara into a spiral and how to make him involuntarily stand at attention with just one look.
If Tachihara does recognize Hayashi as his father, he will have to tell the Boss everything to help extract information. He may even be used as bait, tortured in front of Hayashi. Or he may be removed from the case, fearing that he will give in to emotion and help his father escape. On the other hand, if Hayashi recognizes Michizou as his son, the results will be the same. However, Hayashi may say too much about Tachihara, which the young man does not want at all. Constant surveillance, checks, mistrust - this is the last thing Tachihara needs.
Tachihara decided for himself that it would be easier to ignore Hayashi Yusuke, finding out the necessary information second-hand. He had long since stopped hoping for reconciliation or understanding. He didn't care whether Hayashi died or was miraculously saved. The main thing was that his father never interfered in his life again, never destroyed what he had built with such difficulty.
If Hayashi is smart, he'll know it's to his advantage to do the same. One wrong word from either of them could set off a chain reaction that would destroy everything they were trying to hide.
***
"Tachihara," Chuuya-san calls, "Gin is not working today, will you take her place at Hayashi's interrogation?"
"Oh," Tachihara answers eloquently. He was lying on his favorite couch, scrolling through the news feed on his phone. "I don't think so. He's kind of boring."
Chuuya nods in agreement but doesn't insist, leaving to find someone else. Hirotsu casts a suspicious glance at Tachihara. Michizou ignores the too-perceptive old man, but he directly expresses his concerns:
"You are usually the first to get involved in any available business."
"I have enough old people in my life," Tachihara jokes.
"It's still strange," Hirotsu insists.
"What's strange about that?" Tachihara responds irritably.
"You behaved exemplarily yesterday," Hirotsu explained. "I thought you'd want to be there again."
"Don't be so surprised. I can act professionally sometimes," Tachihara loses patience, jumping up from the couch. "I looked at this politician. I didn't like him. That's it. End of story."
For added effect, Tachihara quickly walked away from Hirotsu and his stupid questions. He didn't want to hear a word about his father and how he influenced him. Of course, it wasn't Hirotsu's fault that he didn't know everything, but it was still unpleasant when someone started digging into you and your motives.
When Tachihara finds a training room, he locks himself in there and shoots every target he can find, imagining Hayashi Yusuke's impassive face instead of the dots.
***
Hirotsu watches as Tachihara disappears into the doorway, looking incredibly angry and annoyed. This only confirmed that something was wrong with the young man. Since yesterday, he had been walking around thoughtful and worried about something. On any other day, Hirotsu would have been glad that Tachihara had finally become more serious, but the circumstances of his change were suspicious and far too abrupt.
It was clearly not the first time Tachihara had been interrogated, so his strange behavior was not due to being overly sensitive. Hirotsu had noticed yesterday that Tachihara was too tense. At first he had attributed it to the fact that he was holding back his enthusiasm, but now that a whole night had passed and Tachihara was still in the same state, Hirotsu was sure that the reason was not the situation, but the person.
Some time ago, the Port Mafia learned that the police had begun conducting targeted raids on organizations under Mori's protection. All police operations were successful, which was a wake-up call for the Mafia.
After conducting their own investigation, the Mafia discovered that the reason for these raids was Hayashi Yusuke, a veteran general with an impeccable reputation in military circles who after retirement took up the position of military policy adviser.
According to the Mafia's data, Hayashi has managed to plant a spy within their ranks who has been passing on key secrets of the organization to him. The identity of the spy remains unknown even to the military police, making the situation even more tense. The only person who can identify this mole is Hayashi himself. In order to stop further leaks, prevent new raids and restore his tarnished reputation, Mori has ordered his most trusted men to kidnap Hayashi. Their task is to extract the name of the spy and his location from him. This information is kept strictly confidential and is known only to Mori himself and his closest associates: Hirotsu, Chuuya and Kouyou.
For the rest of the organization, the official version of events is different. According to it, Hayashi Yusuke's role is to draw up a precise schedule for police raids. He is the one who coordinates the actions of the assault teams and knows where and when the next strike will occur. The Mafia's task is to extract this schedule from Hayashi before the assault team begins to operate again. It is important that the fact of Hayashi's disappearance remains unknown to the general public, as this could alert the police and force them to change all plans. The mission is declared a priority due to its critical importance.
Not entirely true, but not a lie either.
Given this knowledge, Tachihara's reaction to Hayashi seems out of place. Especially since he wasn't supposed to be part of the interrogation team in the first place. And while it's common knowledge that Tachihara likes to be the center of attention and know everything, his insatiable curiosity now looks suspiciously like a reconnaissance. Isn't that too much of a coincidence? Tachihara can't be Hayashi's spy, can he? Hirotsu will have to keep a closer eye on the young man. If Tachihara really is a spy, he might try to escape if he's exposed. If Hirotsu's worries are true, he must be the one to stop Tachihara. At any cost.
With renewed doubt, Hirotsu went to Chuuya and Kouyou to continue the interrogation from yesterday. Akutagawa was brought in instead of Gin and Tachihara. Hirotsu took the opposite side from Akutagawa, not wanting to disturb the other mafioso. Rashomon jumped out of the black coat, snapping her jaws viciously. Akutagawa's appearance alone, half hidden in the shadows, could replace the Black Lizards combined in terms of intimidation.
Akutagawa, meanwhile, coughed and moved away from the wall. It was very cold in the underground concrete room, and it was not good for his lungs to be in such an environment for long. Instead, he began to pace from side to side like a dog on a chain.
There was never any doubt about Akutagawa. He was completely devoted to the Mafia, saved by it from a life of hunger and poverty on the streets. For the same reason, this trust automatically includes Akutagawa Gin.
Hirotsu couldn't help but notice that he had never been interested in how Tachihara had gotten into the organization. With his skills and wild personality, there was simply no doubt that this young man belonged to the dark side of the world. He seemed to be its embodiment. A model mafioso despite his gangster habits.
He wouldn't admit it openly, but Hirotsu was being pressed by the possibility that Tachihara Michizou was the mole they were looking for. He hadn't shared his theory with anyone yet, although he should have. His mind simply refused to put this loud-mouthed oaf on the same level as the cunning double spy no one had even suspected until they were told. How Hirotsu wanted to just walk up to Hayashi and blow his brains out, dig up the name and find physical proof that he was wrong to doubt Tachihara.
Hirotsu stared at Hayashi, feeling his hands itching to act out that mental image.
The man himself was still tied up. His hands below the wrists were crimson red and swollen from long-term disruption of blood circulation. Hayashi's nose was broken from Chuuya's punch yesterday, twisted to the side at a different angle. The blood on his body had dried and was now peeling, flaking in some places. Nevertheless, the man remained completely calm and impartial in the faces of his captors.
Chuuya began asking Hayashi questions again while Kouyou-kun pulled out various tool kits from her sleeves and laid them out in front of the captive. She always carried torture instruments with her, which was very convenient for their work. Her Golden Demon appeared behind Hayashi, taking out a katana, waiting for her mistress's orders.
Like the previous times, Hayashi remained silent for hours, which seriously got on everyone's nerves. If they still had some patience yesterday, today it was already running out. Even Kouyou's calm facade began to crack at the seams as she sharpened the blades against each other with unnecessary force.
After yet another ignored question, Chuuya begins to noticeably go off the rails, his fists glowing a dangerous red. The gravity manipulator also has a bad history with traitors, and he does not want to go through the process of going through this experience again, so he is highly motivated to find the mole as soon as possible and get rid of them before the consequences become even more disastrous. Hayashi Yusuke notices Chuuya's state, but does not react as if he does not care at all that he is about to be killed.
The tension in the room is literally visible. One movement and the thread of patience will break.
Oddly enough, it is Akutagawa who interrupts it.
He doesn't know the real reason why Hayashi is still alive. To him, the man is a waste of time, so he acts accordingly. His Rashomon, previously dormant, comes to life and rushes into battle, clinging to Hayashi's flesh where his neck meets his shoulder.
Several events are happening at once: Hayashi screams like no one has ever heard him scream before, the Golden Demon attacks Rashomon, Chuuya rushes to Hayashi's aid, Kouyou frustratedly asks Akutagawa to stop the attack, and Hirotsu feels like a bystander.
The third day of interrogation of Hayashi Yusuke ends. The name of the spy: unknown. The time and date of the raid: unknown. Which organizations will be under the attention of the special forces: unknown.
The only thing that is known for sure is that Hayashi survived and is willing to be interrogated again the next day. Impressed by his near-death experience, Hayashi Yusuke demands that Akutagawa Ryunosuke's presence be strictly prohibited and that the "masked boy" and "plaster boy" be brought back as observers. As a reward, he will answer one question.
***
When Tachihara hears that his father was almost torn apart by Rashomon, a satisfied smile spreads across his face, which quickly fades after Chuuya-san informs him that he will now be a permanent member of the interrogation team at Hayashi's request, along with Gin.
He groans in frustration, but doesn't come up with any excuses. Deep down, he was worried about how his father would react to Tachihara not showing up this morning. Now he's worried about what the bastard wants from him. The only consolation is that at least this time he has until tomorrow to mentally prepare himself for another meeting with Hayashi and not repeat yesterday's disaster. He's not a little kid anymore to be afraid of his father and panic at the mere sight of his stern gaze.
At home, he looks through all the articles and websites that mention Hayashi Yusuke, making sure that his own name does not appear anywhere. It turns out that his father has finally given up on a military career. Tachihara did not accept this as true until the very last moment. He thought it was a simple misunderstanding. In his mind, he will always be General Hayashi, a "respectable father" who is obsessed with his reputation and its impeccable maintenance.
On a whim, Tachihara looks for recent photographs of his mother, but the last ones are from ten years earlier. His memories of her face stop a few years later. This creates a dissonance in his mind from the sight of one aged parent and the other rejuvenated. Tachihara doesn't even know if his mother is still alive. He wants to believe that if she weren't, his father would have bothered to look for him to tell the news in person or at least by letter.
Just in case, Tachihara also contacts the military police headquarters to request files on his father and his current status, trying to figure out why the Mafia might have turned their attention to him. In response, he is told that this information is classified. Tachihara then calls Jouno-san with the same request. Jouno is currently busy with his own mission in another city and does not have time to search now, but he promises to contact Tachihara as soon as possible or else transfer the task to another Hunting Dog.
Before going to bed, Tachihara looks for a stupid movie and tries to fill his head with it instead of thinking about Hayashi, but it doesn't help much.
***
Gin looks much better than the last time he saw her. She probably slept all day. The girl nods to Tachihara in a businesslike manner and even hands him a free cup of coffee. He wants to hug her and spin her around in a joyful dance, but he restrains, limiting himself to verbal thanks.
In contrast to Gin, Tachihara barely slept last night, too excited at the prospect of seeing his father again. He feels like shit from lack of sleep. He probably looks the same.
Hirotsu continues to give him worried glances.
The three of them reach the entrance to Hayashi's dungeon before Kouyou-san and Chuuya. Hirotsu has the keys to the heavy door. He opens it with practiced movements, letting some fresh air into the room along with them.
This time, instead of a chair in the middle, Hayashi is lying on a cot pushed up against the wall. His hands are cuffed to the headboard instead of tight ropes. Bandages cover every millimeter of his torn skin, but his nose is still broken despite the other wounds being tended to and treated. Particularly noticeable is the thick bandage around his neck where Rashomon's fangs have sunk into the skin like a vampire into his prey.
Surprisingly, the injuries were not serious. Chuuya pressed his hands to the wound in time, preventing the blood from completely spilling out. It was lucky that Akutagawa missed the artery. Most likely he did it on purpose so that the annoying Hayashi would suffer for a long time before dying.
Tachihara is even embarrassed to see his father so weakened. It is as shocking as seeing him for the first time. However, it is not a bad kind of shock. Rather, it is the shock of realizing that the person you thought was invincible is actually as simple and vulnerable as the rest of the population of the Earth. Seeing Hayashi completely bandaged, Tachihara can imagine that this is not his father at all, but just some poor stranger.
That is until Hayashi turns his head to stare at him. Beaten up, with cloudy amber eyes and long eyelashes falling onto his cheeks, he looks more like Shunzen now than ever. Especially from the last photo of him taken for the death report that little Michizou secretly took out of his father's safe and read. The realness of the comparison makes Tachihara want to puke.
"Monocle-san," Hayashi acknowledges in a creaky voice, exclusively for the commander of the Black Lizard, ignoring Tachihara's crisis.
"Hayashi-san," Hirotsu acknowledges in response, "how are you feeling?"
"Peachy."
They are silent. Pleasantries seem too forced in their situation. Hayashi is still looking at Tachihara. Too intently. Michizou wants to cower under his gaze or bare his teeth at him just to make Hayashi stop.
Tachihara was one step away from jumping at his father with an insult or a punch, but he was saved from a rash act by the sound of two pairs of feet descending the stairs. Hayashi looks away from his son first to meet Chuuya-san and Kouyou-san. He does not greet them, unlike Hirotsu - an act of senile solidarity in its purest form.
"I see your condition is improving, Hayashi-san," Chuuya said smugly, looking at the unhealthily pale Hayashi.
"Criminals have a rather interesting definition of improving," Hayashi answers dryly, his broken nose making his speech sound strange and muffled.
Chuuya snorts. He grabs a lonely abandoned chair and places it next to Hayashi's bed, turning the back forward and leaning against it, completely ignoring the blood that has soaked into the upholstery.
"That's enough," Kouyou announces, standing behind Chuuya like a menacing bodyguard. "We've met your conditions, Hayashi-san. Now it's your turn."
"Of course. Ask your question already," Hayashi waved her off casually, as if doing everyone a favor.
"Excellent. But first... - Chuuya looked towards the Black Lizard squad, specifically at Gin and Tachihara, "you two, what you hear must not leave the confines of this room. This information is of the highest level of secrecy, and if even one soul learns even one word of today's conversation, you both will pay dearly for it.
Gin and Tachihara nod in sync, fully aware of the importance of this situation. Chuuya smirks approvingly before turning his attention back to Hayashi a moment later. His face is unusually serious and there's a dark edge to his voice as he asks:
"Hayashi-san, what is the name of the spy you sent to the Port Mafia?"
Tachihara almost flinches. Almost. Because there's no way his father knows about Michizou's real work. The identity of the fifth Hunting Dog is guarded at the level of a state secret. Hayashi, no matter how much power he wielded even at the height of his fame, would never come close to clearing this particular information. It doesn't even exist officially to prevent it from leaking due to a hypothetical cyberattack or paper theft. At this point, the only people who know about Tachihara's espionage activities are the Hunting Dogs themselves, the doctors who handle his operations, and the head of the Military Police.
Another question is who else could it be? If Tachihara is not the only one, then why doesn't he know about it? It would be logical for him to know about another spy so as not to accidentally interfere with each other's work. Who could it be? Does Tachihara know them? Has he communicated with them? Perhaps it is someone from his circle or a new agent who was only recently recruited. Tachihara cannot afford to remain in the dark, because it could jeopardize his own operations and the safety of the entire mission.
He leans in a little closer to make sure he doesn't miss his father's answer, but Hayashi Yusuke, that narcissistic asshole, lifetime winner of the Asshole of the Year award and just a man whose goal is to ruin his son's life in any way imaginable and unimaginable, says exactly what no one wanted to hear from him:
"My spy is Tachihara Michizou."
Notes:
Goodbye peaceful life of Tachihara Michizou.
Incidentally, this is not the only cliffhanger at the end of the chapter. There will definitely be more. Oops. Blame my dramatic nature.
Turns out I really enjoy writing Hirotsu's POV. It's a great feeling when you start to delve deeper into a character that is usually not that interesting. But if there are few fics about Tachihara, then there are none about Hirotsu.
The update schedule is still non-existent
Chapter Text
As soon as those five miserable words left Hayashi's lips, the concrete room sank into an oppressive state of complete stillness. It seemed as if the rest of Yokohama froze in that moment, along with them. But only for a moment. Everyone present turned in shock and disbelief towards Tachihara, whom they had not doubted until the very last moment.
Hirotsu felt a bitter taste in his mouth as his fears were confirmed and guilt for not recognizing Tachihara as a deceiver sooner. Hearing of Tachihara's betrayal was more painful than he thought. Hirotsu had not been prepared to feel himself wavering between his duty to the Port Mafia to immediately punish the traitor and the affection he had developed for the young man who was the closest thing he had to a grandson, the one he had never wanted but somehow had.
But no matter how painful it was, he would have to face the consequences. Hirotsu took off his gloves. If he was going to stop Tachihara, he would do it with his bare hands.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Gin, always professional, was now looking at her comrade as if she was seeing him for the first time. Her eyes were widened so much that she looked more like a teenage girl who had just caught her first crush with his pants down on another girl than a cold-blooded killer with years of experience.
Chuuya and Kouyou were also shocked, but their rage at Tachihara was not as personal as his and Gin's. They were more collected, their eyes already analyzing the boy in front of them, calculating in their heads how best to get rid of the impudent traitor. Chuuya surrounded himself with the glow of his ability, preparing to use it against Tachihara at the slightest movement of the other. Kouyou pulled a dagger from her sleeve with disdain. The Golden Demon would surely appear at any second if the female figure was not already looming somewhere within the room.
Tachihara himself only had eyes for Hayashi Yusuke. His expression was either furious or confused. As if he hadn't expected his superior to give up his spy so easily. He didn't move, acutely aware that he was trapped. For once, this idiot thought before he acted. Otherwise he would already be a corpse.
Tachihara pulled away from Hayashi and turned his attention to the mafioso. His lips parted to speak, but Hirotsu was faster. With a force that was fueled by desperation and an unwillingness to accept Hayashi's accusations, Hirotsu lifted Tachihara and pushed him against the wall.
"Is that true?" Hirotsu asked in a dangerously low voice full of contempt, which he only used on his enemies.
Tachihara made eye contact with him and calmly said:
"No."
Hirotsu didn't put Tachihara down, but a wave of relief rolled through his body in that same second, and new hope settled in his chest. But he didn't let it settle there completely yet.
He had grown attached to Tachihara, there was no denying it. It was hard not to when the young man had literally burst into the hearts of everyone in the Port Mafia with his loud, insane shrieks and the sparkle in his eyes that drew people in like stupid moths. It was easy to forget with Tachihara's casual and brash demeanor that appearances were deceiving and could hide depths of insidious ugliness beneath.
"I'm not Hayashi's spy," Tachihara declared loudly and firmly this time, for everyone to hear. "That piece of shit is lying!"
"And who should we believe?" Gin suddenly spoke up.
"That's what we have to find out," Chuuya announced gloomily. "Tie up Tachihara."
Gin obeyed the order, flying like lightning towards Hirotsu. She pulled out a piece of strong rope from somewhere and began to wrap it around the unresisting Tachihara. The young man remained silent, no longer trying to justify himself. It was probably for the best. Hirotsu wasn't sure that he wouldn't have twisted his bones with Falling Camellia by pure chance - he was so wound up.
When Gin had finished tying Tachihara up, she led him to Hayashi's bed and sat him on the edge. Her movements were gentler than the circumstances required, as if she didn't know how to handle this new Tachihara. And so she chose to be careful not to inadvertently shatter the already familiar image of her partner untainted by harsh accusations.
"Hayashi-san, how can you prove that Tachihara is a spy?" Chuuya asked, getting straight to the point.
"I know everything about him. Ask me anything," Hayashi said, completely uninterested.
"You don't know shit about me, you old bastard!" Tachihara shouted, baring his teeth. Hayashi grimaced in disgust. His whole appearance radiated discontent and irritation with his new neighbor.
"Tachihara, be a good boy and shut up. It's not your turn yet," Kouyou threatened him.
Tachihara clenched his teeth and fists aggressively, holding back from shouting once more. If it weren't for the stiffness in his posture and the repulsive look of his hands tied behind his back, Hirotsu might have thought that this was a normal day, with Tachihara being difficult, voicing his dissatisfaction, but at the same time, as always, unquestioningly following the orders of his leader.
"Well, let's say so. Knowledge alone doesn't prove anything," Chuuya retorted.
"Knowledge is the only thing available to me in my position," Hayashi said, shaking his handcuffed hands for emphasis. "It's not like I could show you his reports."
"Okay, Hayashi-san. In that case, name at least one verifiable fact about Tachihara that will give us reason to believe that your words are not empty."
Hayashi's forehead wrinkled in thought, his eyes gliding over Tachihara, not really lingering on any specific details. Remembering something, he said:
"He has a cross-shaped scar on his left ankle."
Gin quickly darted down, lifting Tachihara's pant leg to expose the scarred skin. Hirotsu had seen it a couple of times, but hadn't asked about its origin. It just didn't seem important.
"What does this have to do with espionage?" Tachihara couldn't help but ask, moving away from Gin's cold hands to half-turn to face Hayashi.
Kouyou ordered Demon to put a katana to Tachihara's throat for speaking without permission, but Michizou did not flinch, continuing to radiate displeasure towards Hayashi.
Hirotsu didn't say it out loud, but he agreed with Tachihara's indignation. Judging by Chuuya's skeptical face, the scar didn't convince him either.
"One more try, Hayashi-san?" Chuuya suggested to Hayashi.
After a moment of thought, Hayashi shared in the same monotone: "He was trained in special skills at the Military Academy from an early age. Records of his studies are in the archives."
It was unexpected, but much more interesting and weighty. Hirotsu wanted to know what Tachihara would counter this fact with, but for some reason the young man only laughed that with a blade to the throat it was just stupidly dangerous. They didn't need another accident during the interrogation.
"Tachihara?" Chuuya asked a little worriedly, watching the other red-haired man laugh.
Tachihara continued to laugh for a few seconds before stopping to take a deep breath, but short chuckles still escaped, making the young man almost choke. Hirotsu had seen Tachihara laugh often, but this was something different, ugly, unpleasant. It was not a sudden burst of mirth, mockery, or glee, but rather full-blown hysterical laughter.
"Can I speak?" Tachihara finally managed to ask after he had finally calmed down. There were even tears in the corners of his eyes, but he couldn't wipe them away without accidentally being decapitated in the most stupid way.
Kouyou nodded. The Golden Demon disappeared.
Tachihara leaned his back against the wall, ignoring the fact that the movement caused his entire body weight to fall across Hayashi's legs. The politician furrowed his brows in annoyance, moving his legs to ward off the insolent mafioso, but to no avail.
"Sorry. I just don't understand what he's trying to achieve with all this," Tachihara said. He turned his head to Hayashi. "Would you stop this comedy, General?"
"It was worth it," Hayashi replied calmly. "When I first saw you, I thought it was just my imagination. However, it turned out that it wasn't. Unfortunately."
"I'm sure you hoped that I rotted in a ditch many years ago," Tachihara sang sarcastically.
"That would be much nobler than everything you represent now," Hayashi said in a stern tone.
"Oh, did I fail to live up to your expectations again?" Tachihara grew heated, leaning closer into Hayashi's space. "What a pity, what a pity."
"Tch, you little brat. As always, no respect."
"So you don't deserve it!" Tachihara shouted at the top of his lungs.
His bonds were straining hard as Michizou tried to break free to get to Hayashi, but he couldn't. From his corner, Hirotsu could see the ropes digging into Tachihara's wrists hard. At this rate, it was going to leave marks.
"Okay, stop it," Chuuya intervened in the squabble between two people. "What's going on?"
This was the first time Hirotsu had seen Tachihara so offended. The anger was rolling off him in waves, practically making the air hum. This was also the first time Hirotsu had heard Hayashi Yusuke say so many words in a row and with such emotion. Judging from the small snippets of conversation, Tachihara and Hayashi were indeed acquainted, but Tachihara's obvious disgust and Hayashi's insults suggested that they were not very fond of each other's company. This should be a good sign, right? Would a spy be so willing to slander his superior?
"What's going on?" Tachihara snapped angrily at Chuuya. "What's going on?! A fucking family reunion, that's what!"
"Family?" Chuuya asked like a parrot. "What? You mean...?"
"Yes," Tachihara interrupted him in the same tone. "Hayashi Yusuke is my fucking father!"
Michizou leaned back against the wall with one last growl, as if all his strength had vanished with this shocking confession.
Father, huh? Hirotsu looked at the two people sitting on the bed, fighting for dominance with just gaze, trying to find signs of kinship between them. If he look closely, they really are very similar. Especially if compare them before the torture disfigured Hayashi's skin.
Hirotsu even had a sense of déjà vu when he first saw Hayashi, but he quickly forgot about it, busy with other more important matters. Now he understands that all this time the politician reminded him of his subordinate. It was just difficult to establish a direct connection between the perpetually grinning Tachihara, who was a solid lump of energy, and Hayashi, whose greatest achievement in self-expression was changing his face from emptiness to a grimace of pain while his nails were being pulled out. Plus, it seems you can add to this direct contact with his son, who also evokes at least some emotion in him, albeit irritation.
Suddenly, Tachihara's strange behavior took on a completely different, safer meaning. This situation was much more dramatic than it seemed at first glance, built on a strange coincidence and had several hidden layers. However, at this moment, Hirotsu was simply glad that Tachihara was speaking sincerely. He was not a mole. He was simply too nervous about the presence of his father, with whom he obviously did not get along.
Hirotsu can understand Tachihara and the reasons for his reticence. He has learned from personal experience that Hayashi Yusuke is an absolutely unbearable person. He would not want to have any connection with him either.
But now that they think about it without a single suspect, they again have no clue as to who the real spy might be. Unless the father and son were good actors who decided to put on a scene of hatred to deflect suspicion. But if that were the case, then this strategy would instead attract unnecessary attention. Although Hirotsu often nags at Tachihara for his impulsiveness, the young man is actually far from stupid.
"It turns out, Hayashi-san, that you still haven't answered our question," Hirotsu noted, forcing himself to leave the topic of fathers and children for another time.
"Obviously I lied about the cooperation," Hayashi snorted contemptuously.
"Then what was the point?" Tachihara asked irritably.
"I'm not that stupid, brat. I knew I was going to die as soon as I was caught. And I was prepared for it," Hayashi stopped, but it was clear he wasn't finished yet: "But then I saw some scum who looked suspiciously like my son. I wanted to solve this mystery one last time. If I had called your name and the people around me hadn't reacted, I would have realized that I was simply mistaken. But unfortunately, it was actually you, Michizou."
It now seemed obvious that Hayashi-san had had his own plans for their little deal from the start. It seemed too good that he would agree to reveal his secrets so easily in exchange for Akutagawa's absence. Hirotsu, Chuuya, and Kouyou hadn't noticed that the main condition he had set was the presence of Tachihara and Gin. They thought that it had to do with Hayashi's desire to see familiar, trusted faces, rather than the fear that the next overseer they brought would be as bloodthirsty and toothy as Rashomon.
"Do you even understand that because of this, I could have been killed the very second your filthy mouth opened?"
"Don't be a hypocrite. You calmly watched me being tortured and did absolutely nothing to stop it. You didn't even turn away!" Hayashi looked at the ceiling. "Who would have thought that one of my killers would be my own flesh and blood? In any case, it doesn't matter anymore. Congratulations, Michizou. You've outdone yourself once again. There's nowhere lower."
"You can say whatever you want," Tachihara said in a tired voice, "I don't care what you think. I'm completely happy with my place in life."
"I have no doubt, Michizou," Hayashi agreed condescendingly. "I always knew you would never amount to anything, and that's what happened. But working for the Mafia? Are you really going to continue to defile our family name? I'm ashamed that you're my son."
Tachihara was silent. He looked like he had been forced to eat several hot rocks. The pain was clearly visible in his eyes, but he tried to pretend that Hayashi's harsh words hadn't affected him in the least.
Hirotsu felt it was wrong to see the uncertainty and shame on Tachihara's face. He wasn't the only one. Feeling uncomfortable with the scene before him, Chuuya intervened, drawing Hayashi's attention away from Tachihara's internal collapse and onto himself.
"Has everyone spoken?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and raising one eyebrow.
"I don't think I have anything else to add," Hayashi confirmed, turning away from Tachihara.
"Well, since you've finished with your family squabbles, it's time to return to our main question."
"There's no point," Tachihara suddenly said. His voice was dead, his eyes staring into space. "He won't say anything. It'll be easier to finish him off."
"Don't say that, Tachihara-kun," Kouyou-kun shut him up. "We still need him."
"He's right, though," Hayashi interjected, suddenly agreeing with the young man as if he hadn't just said a bunch of nasty things about him.
Now there was an icy silence between the two relatives. Neither looked at the other. Both were thinking about something unknown to Hirotsu. It was as if the mutually pronounced death sentence on Hayashi had finally sealed the severance of the bond between father and son.
"Tch, this is out of control. We are the Mafia, not a cheap talk show!" Chuuya was not impressed by their interaction. "Hirotsu, take Tachihara out, but don't untie him. We will have a separate conversation with him later."
Hirotsu nodded, walked over to the bed and helped Tachihara to his feet, leading them both out of the dungeon. He walked half a step behind Michizou and could see how tense the young man was. The older mafioso took off his coat and threw it over Tachihara's shoulders, leaving his guiding hand in the center of his back.
"What are you doing, gramps?" asked Tachihara, jumping up in surprise.
"I'm just hiding your tied hands," Hirotsu lied. "We don't want unnecessary rumors to spread."
"That's right," Tachihara turned away, embarrassed.
They continued walking, looking for an empty conference room. Under his touch, Hirotsu could feel Tachihara's back muscles relaxing with every step they took away from Hayashi.
***
Tachihara knows that Hirotsu has many questions for him. In his place, Tachihara would be just as curious, but he wouldn't have the patience to not start asking them right away.
As Tachihara feared, his father decided to use his silver tongue for nefarious purposes, ruining the interrogation within the first minutes.
The accusation was unexpected. If it weren't for his ability to quickly adapt, he would already be dead. After all, the best lies are built on the truth, and Tachihara took advantage of this: he really wasn't Hayashi's personal spy, and he had no idea who it could be. Tachihara felt little shame as he loudly denied Hayashi's words, on the verge of being crushed to a crisp by the rage-crazed Hirotsu.
With the threat of instant death slightly diminished, Tachihara decided that the best course of action was to attack. So he revealed his relationship to the man on his own terms before Hayashi could do so by twisting some of the facts. He attacked his father with his own grievances, releasing only a tiny fraction of what had been pent up in his head for many, many years. It was therapeutic in a way. He had never had the opportunity to criticize Hayashi so openly as a child.
It didn't end perfectly, but he remained alive and unharmed. If he's lucky, he'll be acquitted. All that's left is to wait for Chuuya-san and hope that Hayashi won't say anything incriminating without him present. Again.
He and Hirotsu sat in a room with a long oval table and floor-to-ceiling windows facing east. Hirotsu sat across from him in a black leather chair a meter away from Tachihara. He seemed thoughtful, but not angry, more melancholy. Most likely he was thinking about Michizou and whether he could be trusted after today's discoveries. Tachihara couldn't blame him for doubting himself.
After accepting an undercover mission, he often wondered what his mafioso colleagues would react to if they found out about him. He imagined rage, threats, name-calling and curses. He thought he would survive it. But over time, he came to love his job in the Mafia and its people. Gradually, the pain of betrayal and endless questions of "why?" crept into his fantasies, as well as tears and denial (mostly from Higuchi Ne-san).
Today, he learned that these images were no match for reality. It was physically painful to see the impact Hayashi's lies had on his team, his dear friends. Especially Hirotsu and Gin. It was terrible, but there was simply no way out of Tachihara's delicate situation.
After all, just like the Port Mafia, he loves the Hunting Dogs.
On days when he feels brave enough, Tachihara can imagine spending the rest of his life providing Captain Fukuchi with bits of information about the Mori's activities, training with Tecchou-san and Jouno-san, carrying Teruko-san on his shoulders like her personal slave or horse while hearing the sounds of her childish laughter, and then in the evening, shamelessly continuing to fight side by side with Gin, watching Higuchi's hopeless crush on Akutagawa, pestering old man Hirotsu with his deliberately disgusting behavior.
He cannot keep both.
Undercover missions don't last forever, and someday the government will call their soldier back and he won't have the luxury of choice, because if he stays in the Mafia, he'll die without the reinforcing surgeries. Eventually he'll have to sacrifice something and most likely it will be his soul and conscience.
Tachihara, weighed down by these heavy thoughts, wrapped himself tighter in Hirotsu's coat, which the man had not yet demanded to be returned. The man caught this small gesture, bringing himself out of his trance. Hirotsu's eyes bored into Tachihara, but it was not like Hayashi's. He was observing, not delving into his soul, looking for answers to his unasked questions.
In his current state, Tachihara would have willingly given them to him if he had asked, despite all the laws of common sense. He felt like a guilty little boy, willing to do anything to make up for his guilt. He didn't want to disappoint the old man even more. The humiliation of his conversation with his father still burned in his stomach, and Tachihara hung his head in shame, unable to play a staring contest with Hirotsu.
"Look at me," Hirotsu demanded again.
Tachihara winced and immediately sat up straight. He could feel his shoulders beginning to ache from the effort of maintaining his perfect posture, - a reaction to the commanding voice, a holdover from his military upbringing that demanded perfection from him and his subsequent service as a Hunting Dog.
Tachihara remained silent and unblinking, eyes wide open, awaiting the verdict from the old man in the monocle. Hirotsu only sighed and frowned as if he didn't like what he saw.
"It was because of this behavior that I began to suspect you," Hirotsu whispered under his breath, but not quietly enough. Then, as if coming to his senses, he turned to Michizou: "Don't be a pathetic coward, Tachihara. Of all the people here, you look the most like a real mafioso. If you're telling the truth, then there's no need for you to be so nervous."
Hirotsu stood up and went to the window to smoke, giving Tachihara a view of his bare back. Without a coat in just a shirt, his shoulders looked smaller than Tachihara was used to.
It seemed that Hirotsu believed Michizou's words, that he was not a spy at all, but that he was simply unlucky enough to have Hayashi as a parent. This gesture of trust, coupled with the peculiar words of encouragement he had just heard, made Tachihara's heart clench painfully.
The foolish old man has already decided that he is going to step on the same rake, trusting Tachihara once again. Tachihara wants to grab him, scream at him, force him to open his eyes and see all the lies that permeate his every word and action. But he does not do it. He really is a pathetic coward.
Notes:
Next chapter: No physical presence of Hayashi, but he will still be mentioned a lot because it's time for some backstory!
Other notes:
1) Considering that Michizou and Shunzen have a big age difference - at least 13 years - Hayashi is actually older than Hirotsu. So Hirotsu is more old enough to be Tachihara's father than grandfather. Just saying.
2) I love equally PM Tachihara and HD Tachihara. As they say, the best Tachihara is any Tachihara.
3) Thanks everyone for your comments and kudos❤
Chapter Text
After that, Hirotsu and Tachihara did not exchange another word. Hirotsu's coat was returned to its owner after Michizou became too hot in two layers and he realized that it was too strange to continue wearing someone else's clothes, especially those with the smell of old age.
During this time, Tachihara had managed to calm down a little and start thinking rationally rather than emotionally. Shame still washed over him when he recalled his reactions to his father's provocations, to which he had easily succumbed. He hated this part of himself that was still young and fearful in the face of Hayashi.
Hirotsu's words also helped calm him down a lot. He was right. The Mafia had no evidence that Tachihara was a double spy. Only that he hadn't told about Hayashi right away, hiding valuable information.
It was already late evening when the silence of the conference room was broken by the opening of the doors. Three people entered: Chuuya-san, Kouyou-san and Gin. Chuuya sat on the opposite side of the table from Tachihara, Kouyou-san to Chuuya's left, Hirotsu to his right. Gin sat next to Michizou, leaving one empty chair between them. Chuuya-san had some papers in his hands, which he was sorting through with the air of a businessman.
"Tachihara, I think there is no point in telling you that trying to escape or lying is useless."
Tachihara nodded.
The seats were designed with comfort in mind, but only if your hands weren't tied. In that case, it was very uncomfortable and forced you to constantly fidget in search of a better position. Chuuya-san noticed Tachihara's distress and suggested:
"We will untie your hands, but in exchange you will have to honestly and fully answer any of our questions that will help sort out all this confusion."
"I agree."
A minute later, Tachihara was already lounging in his chair, rubbing his wrists, which had been burned by the rope.
His release had been swift, which was encouraging. It seemed that Hirotsu was not alone in thinking that Hayashi's accusations were born of his own delusional attempt to confirm his son's identity, rather than an attempt to expose the real spy.
The papers that Chuuya-san had been holding before were now in front of Tachihara's face. He picked them up and started flipping through the pages. It was the information that the Mafia had collected on Hayashi Yusuke. The documents contained basic personal information: date and place of birth, photos, copies of documents, various diagrams and notes.
Tachihara glanced over them and noticed that many important things were missing. Most of the pages were marked with big question marks, indicating that information was unconfirmed but could still hypothetically be true.
He ran his finger thoughtfully along the edge of one of the pages. His father, despite his love of public events and performances, had always remained a reserved person. But even taking this into account, such a paucity of information seemed strange. Hayashi Yusuke's entire life fit into nine and a half sheets. The rest of the semblance of a voluminous dossier was created by the plans of the house and buildings he most often visited, as well as photos of his daily routine taken by a photographer-stalker. However, these pictures also did not contain anything important or exciting, representing only everyday moments.
"It's pretty meager," Tachihara said.
"So you'll help fill in the gaps," Chuuya explained. After a while, he added, "If of course, you really are Hayashi-san's son."
The dossier in his hands was the shortest one Tachihara had ever seen. Usually, Mafia intelligence was known for its meticulousness and thoroughness in collecting material, filling pages with the smallest details. However, this time the papers seemed almost empty. It was understandable why Chuuya-san might doubt the veracity of his story.
"Unfortunately, he really is my father," Tachihara grumbled.
"Then clarify this: why do you have different last names? Is Tachihara just a pseudonym? Or are you his illegitimate son?"
Michizou grimaced at the prospect and quickly explained:
"I am a legitimate child and no, Tachihara is indeed my last name. In fact, my father is also Tachihara: my grandfather on my mother's side set a condition that Hayashi must take his wife's last name, otherwise the wedding would not take place. My father did not want to miss his chance because of such an insignificant detail. But at the same time, he wanted to be remembered by his family name, so he still introduced himself as Hayashi and after he rose in the service and became famous by analogy, this last name was assigned to my mother. But on paper, they are both Tachihara."
He didn't say, but at the time this confusion had served him well. No one at school, at the Academy or on the street compared him to his famous father. Even when he joined the Hunting Dogs, this information was revealed to his comrades completely by accident when Captain Fukuchi mentioned Hayashi for his merits, and Tachihara automatically responded by revealing the family connection.
"No, according to the documents he is Hayashi," Chuuya-san confidently objected. "This is the last name recorded officially."
"Nonsense, there is clearly some kind of mistake here."
Tachihara looked at the papers more closely, this time reading each letter. Hayashi's name was listed instead of Tachihara's every time his father was mentioned.
"Could it be that at some point he changed his last name back to Hayashi?" Kouyou-san asked him.
"I don't know, I guess? But why would he need it?" Michizou thought out loud.
"Divorce," Hirotsu-san suggested.
"Yes," Chuuya confirmed, clasping his hands on the table. "Two years ago."
"Oh," Tachihara blurted out. "I didn't know about that."
He didn't know what to feel about it either. There was no outrage or hurt that any normal child would feel upon hearing such news. Well, he wasn't normal. And neither were his parents. He didn't even know if they had ever truly loved each other enough to feel sorry for either of them. Maybe their divorce had been for the best. They were still a stretch to call themselves a family. Well, when there were four of them, everything was fine. But then there were three, and cracks appeared in each of their lives, determining the paths of their different futures. When Michizou left home, there would be only his father and mother to remain.
It is logical that people who have grown cold even towards their only surviving child will eventually grow cold towards each other, leaving only memories of pain and misfortune from the Tachihara family.
"Um, well, he's still my father," Michizou said, eventually trying to respond somehow feeling his ears start to turn red from embarrassment, "and his now ex-wife is my mother."
"Thank you for explaining. We'll do some further checking," Chuuya informed, still not looking entirely convinced, which was clearly audible in his next remark: "It's not that we don't believe you, but clarify one more thing..."
The executive started searching for something in his pockets and soon pulled out a small piece of paper: a photo folded several times. Like the documents before, he handed it over to Tachihara. Michizou unfolded the photo. Longing and uninvited nostalgia squeezed his heart. He had several guesses about what Chuuya-san might be getting at.
"The file says that Hayashi has one son. And he is currently studying in the United States," the red-haired man continued.
Tachihara was obviously not in the US right now and his only formal education was school and he didn't finish it. This must be another trick from Hayashi. Tachihara wasn't too surprised anymore, but the realization that his father had chosen to hide his shameful family life by lying, even forging documents, rather than openly admitting his worthlessness as a parent made him even more disappointed in himself for allowing such a pathetic person to manipulate him.
"It's an old photo," Michizou explained in a numb voice, not taking his eyes off the picture in front of him. Before any more accusations or questions could be leveled at him, he added, "That boy isn't me."
"Then who?" Kouyou-san asked him suspiciously.
The photo showed Hayashi Yusuke, Tachihara Arumi and Tachihara Shunzen. The teenager was about twelve-fourteen years old, smiling carefree, flanked on both sides by his parents, who were proudly squeezing his shoulders in a double hug. Michizou wasn't even in the plans at the time, or his mother was in the early stages of pregnancy. He had never seen her smile so airily, specifically at him.
"My older brother."
"So Hayashi has two children?" Chuuya asked. His eyebrows drew closer and closer together as he mentally compared the information in the file with what Tachihara had said, alarmed by the number of discrepancies.
"No, not anymore, he..." Tachihara answered hesitantly, "...He died."
He had to be honest about some things to sell them his story and earn more trust. Even if it hurt. Especially if it hurt. There was a silence after his words, the kind that always followed the mention of death. However, it did not last long. They were professionals conducting an important interrogation. They could not be confused by someone else's grief, even if it was the grief of their colleague, their friend. Chuuya-san cleared his throat, pushing away the guilt that had gripped him.
"Accept my condolences."
"It's okay," Tachihara replied. "It's been many years."
He didn't want to dwell on the subject any longer than necessary. Shunzen was a taboo subject for him. Chuuya-san's attempt to not be rude sounded bland in Tachihara's ears, as it seemed wrong to hear words of comfort from someone who didn't know his brother personally. Chuuya knew it too, judging by his expression when he realized how insincere his words sounded.
"Then what about the US?" Hirotsu asked, saving both Tachihara and Chuuya from awkward stares.
"I've never been there in my life," Michizou lied, relieved that no one asked for more details about Shunzen.
He had been to Portland once, before infiltrating the Mafia on a mission with the Hunting Dogs, but it had ended so quickly that he hadn't even had time to get a feel for the atmosphere of another country and its culture before returning to Yokohama. Plus, his English was still bad, despite all the lessons Teruko-san had drilled into him.
A theory had already formed in Tachihara's mind which he thought could explain almost all the oddities and inconsistencies that Hayashi's life presented. And finally, he decided to lay it out without hiding the accumulated bitterness.
He said he believed Hayashi had cleverly covered his tracks early in his career, cleaning up his records and rebuilding his reputation by concocting an outright lie about where his son had disappeared to. Surely he, the great Hayashi Yusuke, could not admit that he was a lousy parent whose child chose to live on the streets rather than with him. That version, he suggested, would also explain the paucity of information about Hayashi himself.
"That sounds plausible," Hirotsu agreed after a minute of considering his words.
Kouyou-san and Chuuya also nodded, accepting his version without the expected attacks.
"Okay, then tell me about this Military School of yours or whatever it's called that Hayashi mentioned, and we'll finish it," Chuuya ordered.
"Military Academy," Kouyou corrected him with a sly smile.
Of course, they hadn't forgotten about it. The Academy, by the way, was the easiest to explain. If they were counting on catching him on such a trifle, then their attempts were doomed to failure. As long as the questions concerned his old life, Tachihara would always be in a winning position, because he had practically nothing to hide - he could calmly tell the truth.
All the mystery and confusion begins with his going out on his own and joining the Hunting Dogs. If the conversation gets to that part, he can only hope that his early candor and their prejudices will play a role in making them continue to believe everything he says. However, the likelihood that they will actually be interested in the period of his life without Hayashi's constant presence is extremely small.
"It's not as interesting as it seems," Tachihara assured before beginning his story. "I think it's worth mentioning first that Hayashi is a hereditary general. He wanted to pass on the family craft to his children. And everything went according to his plan with Shunzen, my brother. He really did become a soldier, and an exemplary one at that. But, well, after... after his death, Hayashi took it upon himself to train me, but I wasn't as talented in military affairs as Shun..."
Tachihara paused, choosing his next words. The mention of Shunzen had caused a lump to form in his throat. He had intended to speak mechanically, but his idiotic sentimentality had taken over again, forcing him to add more vulnerability to his tone. He did not want to embarrass himself further in front of his three superiors. If he passed this test, none of them would look at him the same way again. All his work, all those years of building up his image, would go down the drain.
"...But it's not that I was completely bad, no! I learned to shoot and fight, but he still didn't like my progress. And when he got tired of messing with me, Hayashi sent me to the Military Academy," he continued, explaining. "It's an experimental boarding school where children are given military training before the army. It appeared after the Great War and its purpose was to prepare the future generation in case a new conflict ever broke out. Mostly either orphans who were left after the war or the same children of ambitious parents like me studied there.
Chuuya, Hirotsu, and Kouyou listened to Michizou with interest, leaning forward as if they were ready to hit him if any word or sentence seemed far-fetched to them. And although Tachihara knew it was just his overexcited imagination, he still flinched slightly under their collective eagle eyes, praying that he hadn't screwed up in any way.
"It meant training in discipline, handling weapons, physical training and all that jazz. Nothing super secret or spy-like I swear!" he joked hastily, but only earned a disapproving look from Hirotsu. "However, the conditions there were unbearably harsh for children. We were treated like adult soldiers and sometimes even worse. This is probably because the educators there were former soldiers accustomed to a certain level of obedience. Each day was strictly scheduled down to the minute, including trips to the toilet. Being late for more than thirty seconds was punished - either physical or additional exercises at night. There was practically no time for communication with each other and it was impossible to leave the territory. Permission for this could only be given by parents if there were any, and then for no more than three weeks a year.
Tachihara cleared his throat, remembering his old days at the boarding school. He didn't miss it, but it hadn't been the worst time of his life. Despite all the hardships, he'd found some stability in the repetitive lessons. His first friends and his first realizations of how unfair the world was had remained there. He'd realized that he had to take his fate into his own hands and make the name Tachihara Michizou more than just a faint echo of Tachihara Shunzen.
"At this rate, you can go completely crazy. Well, I didn't put up with it. I spent only a year at the Academy constantly trying to escape, and on the sixth try I succeeded. After that, I ended up on the street, joined various gangs and eventually ended up in the Mafia. That's basically all about the Academy," he finished without unnecessary details.
"Why didn't you just come home?" asked Chuuya-san.
"There was no point in going back to a place where I wasn't wanted," Michizou said. "I think Hayashi finally gave up on me when he realized I wasn't up to his standards and he got rid of me that way. He never visited me before my ran away and he never even called the police to look for me after that. I followed the missing persons posters. My name and face never showed up."
He spoke with bitter irony, but there was pain beneath the words that he was trying hard to hide. It was the truth, not a lie to elicit pity. He had no need to lie. Compared to other people in the Mafia, his life might even seem relatively decent. He had once had a family, however dysfunctional it was now, a roof over his head, and food on his plate. If he had finished the Academy, he would still have served the state, but this time without the black mark on his record for trying to break into a safe and other petty crimes he had committed before being caught.
Maybe if he really tried, he could impress Hayashi and earn his respect instead of making him give up their family ties so easily.
"What about your mother?" Kouyou-san asked.
Michizou tensed up. It wasn't for nothing that Kouyou-san was considered an expert in torture. She knew where to hit. Her question was like a blow to an old, not yet healed wound. In truth, if it was a choice between his father and mother, Hayashi Yusuke was the lesser of two evils. Tachihara Arumi had stopped being his parent much earlier, preferring to lose herself in the depths of her fantasies born of a sick mind.
"An unwanted child," was all Tachihara said about his mother.
This turned out to be enough.
"You've provided a lot of new information," Chuuya-san summed up, rubbing his temples. "Thank you for your cooperation, Tachihara. I still have to double-check everything you said."
He started to take all the sheets, looking exhausted and tense. Tachihara guessed that those responsible for the intelligence were in for a serious scolding from the short man.
"Don't leave the skyscraper yet," he ordered before leaving. "Hirotsu-san and Gin will look after you."
Tachihara remained seated, watching as the conference room doors closed behind Chuuya and Kouyou-san. The silence that followed their departure was almost deafening. Hirotsu and Gin exchanged silent glances, as if deciding whether to try to engage Tachihara in conversation or to leave him alone.
"Are you okay?" Hirotsu finally asked. His voice was calm without unnecessary pressure. What Tachihara didn't want. A different attitude. Pity.
"Yes," Michizou answered briefly without raising his head.
He didn't want to discuss his feelings, especially now that his mind was elsewhere. All he wanted was some time to himself to finally get a break from all the fast-paced events that had filled the last few days.
He soon noticed that Chuuya-san had not taken the photo from his hands. He was about to run after him or call out to him when Gin's quiet voice stopped him:
"Keep it."
Tachihara looked at her and then at Hirotsu, who only nodded briefly. During his entire confession, Gin had not said a word or moved. He had even forgotten that she had been sitting very close the entire time. Now he had time to notice that she had been acting strangely ever since Hayashi had accused him. She seemed more fragile or something, unsure, avoiding his gaze. He didn't like seeing her like that.
"Why don't we find another place?" he suggested to get a change of scenery. "I'd rather spend the night somewhere comfortable than here."
"That's a great idea," Hirotsu agreed.
When they reached Black Lizard's office, Tachihara immediately sat down carefully on the couch, trying not to spread his limbs too much to leave some space for Gin or Hirotsu if either of them wanted to join in. Gin did so, still avoiding looking at him directly, but he could see her watching him from the corner of her eye.
"I'll make us some tea," said Hirotsu, and went into the kitchen, leaving his charges alone.
Gin, as usual, said nothing, but her gaze was attentive. She seemed to read Tachihara like an open book, despite his attempts to hide his emotions. Her silence was both reassuring and oppressive.
For now, he held out, forbidding himself to even think about delving into the childhood memories that had been rudely dragged to the surface by interrogations, but he knew that once he found himself alone in his apartment, they would completely overwhelm him.
After all the stress and adrenaline he had experienced today, he just wanted to get into a routine with his comrades, but usually out of the three of them, it was Tachihara who filled the time with his chatter while Gin pretended not to listen, although in fact she remembered every word he said, and the old man thoughtfully smoked on the sidelines and sometimes jokingly discussed with him. Without Hirotsu, only the silent Gin was left, and Tachihara went over safe topics in his head, wanting to cheer her up and himself at the same time. But he was not in the right mood. All his energy was taken up by the mask behind which he hid his inner turmoil.
Unexpectedly, Gin spoke first:
"I feel sorry for your brother too."
"I...I'm okay," Tachihara replied.
She finally looked at him normally, her obsidian eyes filled with sadness, but also understanding.
"No, you're not," she said softly. "No one will be after this."
He remained silent. She had an older brother, too. Maybe she really did understand him. Even though Akutagawa was alive and by her side, it was obvious to everyone in the Mafia that his health was not the best. His terrible cough, an echo of his illness, seemed incurable. And Gin lived with him. She saw more than the others. And she felt more anxiety than the others. How often did she pray to God that her brother would be okay when another coughing fit left him spitting up blood on the floor of their bathroom? How long had her personal hell been going on, where every day with him could be the last?
He felt around in his pocket for a corner of the photograph and pulled it out, examining the details in the lamplight.
"Perhaps you're right," Michizou agreed softly, running his finger gently over his brother's face.
Because the photo was held folded, a wrinkled line ran down Shun's shoulder. Ironically, it also brushed Hayashi's arm, cutting him off from his wife and son.
"You know, when you talk about Hayashi, you're indifferent or irritated. But when you talk about your brother, you're completely overcome with sorrow," Gin noted, also looking at the faces of his family. "It seems like you were close."
He instinctively wanted to hide the photo from prying eyes, but he restrained himself. There was no point in dodging: Gin had already seen the photo, and she was clearly not trying to use it for any benefit. She was simply making conversation. It was sincere and harmless.
Suddenly, he wanted to talk about his brother, to share this sadness with someone else. He had never talked about him before because it was too painful. But now, when all the most unpleasant memories were mixed up in his head, thoughts of Shunzen seemed like a refuge. They were lighter than thoughts about his parents or his youth. After all, memories of him remained bright and comforting, and now he especially needed that. Gin seemed like the perfect listener.
"Yes, we were. But our characters were completely different."
"Really?" Hirotsu's voice came from around the corner.
He appeared with a tray topped with three cups with tea bags in each.
"You can't stand tea bags, can you?" Michizou noted with bewilderment, turning away from Gin.
The old man didn't argue and merely nodded. His disdain for tea bags was well known in the Port Mafia. Hirotsu believed that such tea parties lacked soul. He preferred to brew loose leaf tea by hand, using strainers, teapots, and unusual porcelain or clay teapots from his collection, arranging a whole ceremony. Although the tea prepared this way was not bad, the process took too much time and effort. Tachihara had never understood this, since there was almost no difference in taste. Their diametrically opposed positions on this issue often became a subject of debate, but tonight Hirotsu seemed to have decided to give in to his principles for a while.
"I didn't want to keep you waiting," Hirotsu explained.
"How noble of you, Grandpa," Tachihara chuckled, accepting the cup and settling down more comfortably.
The warmth of the drink was pleasantly warm in his palms, and the scent of chamomile was a little soothing. The old man was not very subtle in his intentions, but Tachihara would continue to play along if it meant forgetting for a moment about his father in the basement and the spy games.
"So what about your difference with your brother?" Hirotsu prompted, leaning against the wall. His voice was soft, but there was genuine interest in it.
"Shunzen was..." Tachihara hesitated, choosing his words. "He was perfect. Calm, smart, kind, obedient. Everyone adored him. As for me... Well, you know. I'm different.
"And is that bad?"
"In essence? No. For my parents? Yes."
"Well, parents aren't always right," Hirotsu noted wisely.
"Yeah, I know," Tachihara chuckled. "But no one ever told me that when I was a kid. I thought it was my fault because I couldn't live up to their ideals. That I was too different from Shunzen. I even hated him for a while because everyone always compared us and said it would have been better if I had died instead of him."
"This is terrible," Gin said.
Tachihara nodded.
"At some point I even began to believe them. For many years I tried to be like Shun to earn their love and recognition, but I received nothing in return. Only in the boarding school I understand that I did not want to repeat his path because it would lead me nowhere. Then I decided to become the opposite of everything that Shunzen represented, but at the same time remain myself. To build myself in spite of and not out of spite."
Those were terrible years. Tachihara struggled with his identity every day, constantly asking himself if his desires were his own or imposed by someone else: his father, his mother, his grandfather. He felt like he was in a cage where every choice had already been made for him, and his own voice was drowned out by the expectations of those around him.
He couldn't blame Shun anymore. After all, Tachihara had been only five years old when he died. The basic image of his older brother had been formed in Michizou's mind by other people's opinions of him, their glowing stories of his talents and accomplishments, and the personal effects that remained in his mind - letters and diaries that he had read over and over again, trying to find answers to his questions. Without the real Shunzen by his side, Tachihara could neither confirm nor deny the ideal picture that others had painted for him.
His own memories were vague and fragmentary, but they did not tell him that Shunzen was a mathematical genius or how skillfully he controlled his ability. To Michizou, he was simply a loving brother who told the most interesting stories, praised all his drawings, even the most clumsy ones, and always consoled him after nightmares, hugging him tightly, as if protecting him from the whole world.
Sometimes Tachihara wondered how his life would have turned out if Shunzen were still alive. Perhaps they would have become officers worthy of their father, sharing his strict principles and ideals. Or on the contrary, Hayashi would have been satisfied with just Shunzen and he would have ignored Michizou, leaving him in the shadow of his older brother. Who knows, maybe Michizou would have also found his calling in the Hunting Dogs or the Port Mafia. Or maybe he would have become an architect, as he once confidently declared to Shun about his future profession as a child, not really knowing what it meant, but drawing fantastic buildings with sincere enthusiasm.
But fate had other plans. He came to terms with himself and became Tachihara Michizou – a soldier and a criminal, a spy and a traitor, a Hunting Dog and a mafioso. He couldn't have done it without the ghost of his brother, who always loomed over his shoulder and became a part of Michizou himself. Shunzen may have died, but his influence still affects Tachihara's every action. Without him, he wouldn't have agreed to become a Hunting Dog and would now be rotting in prison. He became his moral compass. He gave him motivation, a purpose in life, no matter how bloody it was.
Of course, he didn't tell Gin and Hirotsu any of this. These thoughts were too personal, too intimate. They already had an idea of how chaotic his life had been. There was no point in adding other dark details.
Out loud, he continued to recall only the brightest moments about Shunzen, which warmed him in return. Gin and Hirotsu listened attentively, pouring more tea into his cup. The girl even shared some embarrassing stories about her brother, putting Tachihara's life at risk if Akutagawa ever found out that Michizou knew. Hirotsu didn't have a siblings, but he too got sucked into the story night, recalling funny incidents from his youth.
Soon the chamomile did its job, and Tachihara himself did not notice how he fell asleep laying his head on Gin's shoulder.
Notes:
Next chapter: Still no Hayashi! But also no Michizou....
Other notes:
1) irl Tachihara also inherited his mother's last name, although I found out about it after I wrote the fic. And it's just a wow coincidence.
2) I think this is my favorite chapter.
3) The chapter titles were invented by AI. I can't name things normally. I just know that Tinker Tailor is a counting rhyme and decided to continue it for fun, but the result was surprisingly good and conveyed the meaning of the chapters, so I kept it.
P.S. I can't get it out of my head that if Francis and Tachi were friends, Tachi would have the nickname Michigan.
Chapter Text
After all only Kouyou was sent to confirm Tachihara's information. At night, dressed in a cleaning lady's uniform, she easily entered the Military Academy's archives. Her goal was to find Tachihara's personal file, which could confirm that he had indeed lived in the boarding school for a year.
In the dimly lit room that smelled of old paper, Kouyou quickly found the folder she needed. Opening it, she saw a photo of Tachihara. The face in the picture was strikingly different from how he looked now as a member of Black Lizard. He was young, with baby fat on his cheeks, but already with a serious expression and frighteningly empty eyes. Under the photo were dozens of notes on disciplinary violations written in small handwriting, literally overlapped each other, making it clear that the boy was not as diligent as one might think at first glance. Kouyou even felt a certain pride in his youthful rebellious nature, which military upbringing could not stifle. Remarkably, the reason for Tachihara leaving the boarding school was listed as his parents' decision to take him home and not an escape. However, she simply did not have time to find out whether this was true, a lie ordered by Hayashi, or an invention of the Academy itself.
After finishing the last page, Kouyou took a photo of the relevant data and carefully returned Tachihara's file to the folder, placing it in the back of the filing cabinet. Then, after making sure that everything was in its proper place again, she wiped her fingerprints off the surfaces. With a bucket and mop in hand, she calmly walked towards the exit of this wretched institution living out its last days. None of the waking inhabitants of the Military Academy even noticed her presence.
Breaking into the archives did not give Kouyou any new, significant discoveries. The only thing that was significant was the address of the house where Tachihara spent his childhood and accordingly, Hayashi's old address.
Her next destination.
The area where the house was located was far from the Academy, away from the busy streets and usual city noise. Narrow roads surrounded by ornamental trees created a sense of privacy.
Once again, Kouyou silently cursed the secrecy of this operation, which meant she had to forgo the services of her personal driver, who could navigate any road in Japan as if he had laid each one out himself. But unfortunately, until the spy was found, no one outside Mori's inner circle could be trusted with such an important mission.
She was not a skilled driver, and the night roads, with their sharp turns and sparse streetlights, only made the task more difficult. She had to break the speed limit several times to reach the former Hayashi-Tachihara residence before dawn. She tensed up every time she saw the headlights of oncoming cars on the horizon, fearing that they might be police patrols. Fortunately, she was lucky - no cars stopped her - and she was able to avoid unnecessary questions.
When she finally got there, the sky was already starting to lighten, turning a pale pink. A large house in a hybrid style of modern and Japanese traditional architecture appeared before her. It looked like no one had lived in it for some time, but it was not for sale, doomed to gather dust within its walls, waiting for one of the owners to return.
Kouyou looked around for passersby and, seeing no one, opened the gate and made her way into the courtyard. It might once have been beautiful and well-kept but now only tall weeds grew there. She carefully approached the front door, trying not to step on the noisy loose gravel. Using a master key, Kouyou opened the door and entered the house. Inside there was even more dust than she imagined, as well as an unpleasant stagnant smell that made it hard to breathe. A quick inspection revealed that there was nothing of note on the first floor, so Kouyou went up to the second.
The nearest door was Tachihara's parents' bedroom. Kouyou looked through all the lockers and drawers for any clues, but all she found were old magazines and a few easily replaceable trinkets.
Next was Tachihara's own room. Unlike his parents', all the things here were in place untouched. On the table lay notebooks, textbooks, a sketchbook, and a glass with a dried flower, the petals of which had fallen off long ago and lay crooked on the floor. There were books on the shelves, mostly collections of poems by little-known poets and children's encyclopedias. Old small-sized clothes hung in the closet, confirming that Tachihara had not lived here since childhood. Surprisingly, except for the mess on the table, the room was tidy. Even the bed was made without a single crease on the sheets.
The third room was locked. Of course, that didn't stop Kouyou. The interior was similar to Tachihara's room, with the only difference being that there was an altar. Next to it was a photo of a young man who looked like Michizou, but upon closer inspection, small details distinguished him from his younger brother. He was wearing a gray military uniform and was smiling. The black ribbon on the frame told his fate without words. Like the younger one, the older one's desk was covered in papers and notebooks. Kouyou didn't have time to read everything, but she was curious to know their contents, so she took them with her.
The last room was Hayashi's office, but here she was disappointed: the room was completely empty. Only the walls covered with faded spots from long-removed paintings, reminded that someone had once worked here.
She was about to leave when suddenly she heard the creaking of floorboards and a loud, heart-rending cough from below. Kouyou became wary, her fingers touching the hilt of the tanto hidden in her belt. She slipped out of Hayashi's former office, silently pressing herself against the cold wall of the corridor so as not to give herself away.
She peeked around the corner and immediately noticed the source of the noise: an old woman of about eighty, hunched and frail, with a face covered with a network of deep wrinkles. Probably a neighbor attracted by the open door. A small dog with drooping ears was circling around the old woman's feet, but to Kouyou's surprise, it did not bark.
Now Kouyou was faced with a dilemma: first, she could hide in one of the rooms and wait until the old woman left. Second, she could try to escape through the window, hoping that the dog would not smell her and make a noise waking up the entire neighborhood. Third, she could eliminate both of them to get rid of witnesses.
However, none of these options seemed ideal.
In the end, she chose a completely different approach.
Kouyou hid the tanto, adjusted her clothes, smoothed her hair and relaxed the muscles of her face, making herself look less threatening. She took a deep breath, adopting a slightly frightened expression, and stepped out of hiding, revealing herself to the old woman, who was still coughing and spitting out dust.
"Who's there?" Kouyou asked in a shrill voice, pretending to be scared herself.
The old woman froze instantly, stepping back closer to the door in surprise. Her eyes narrowed and she cast a suspicious glance at Kouyou.
"I'm the one who should be asking!" she shouted back sharply. "Who are you, I ask you? What are you doing here, you scoundrel? Did you think that since the owners were gone, you could rob them so easily? No, I won't let this go! I'll call the police right now!"
"Wait! I can explain everything!" Kouyou exclaimed hastily, raising her hands in a conciliatory gesture.
Kouyou's words caught the old woman's attention, but she still kept her hand on the phone, which she held in plain sight, as if to show that she was ready to carry out her threat at any moment. Kouyou noticed how her lips were stubbornly pressed together, but at the same time curiosity flickered in her eyes. All old women live their lives in the same boring way - give them even a drop of drama and they are ready to believe any nonsense. Fortunately, the Tachihara family had more than enough drama.
"Michizou sent me, do you know him?" Kouyou asked to test the waters.
The old woman's eyes, which immediately widened in surprise, showed that she knew the name. Her mouth opened and closed, reminiscent of a fish pulled ashore. Endless questions seemed ready to burst from her tongue. The woman's entire body jerked forward slightly, as if following the subconscious desire of the owner to figure out who this mysterious stranger was in front of her, who had managed to dispel any doubts and forget about the danger with one phrase.
Bingo.
The neighbor had fallen for Kouyou's hook. Now all that was left was to pull her closer and use her to obtain the necessary information.
"My name is Kaede, I'm his fiancée," Kouyou continued to entice her. "He asked me to come here and pick up a few things while he and Hayashi-san catch up with each other."
To be convincing, Kouyou took a master key out of her purse and showed it to the old woman. She hoped that the woman's poor eyesight would allow her to mistake it for a key.
"Really?" exclaimed the old woman, completely forgetting her previous anxiety. "Michizou? Our little Michizou is getting married?"
Kouyou smiled innocently and nodded, causing the old woman to experience a new fit of delight.
"Kaede-chan, my dear, don't just stand there. Come down and tell me everything in more detail!" the neighbor squealed so joyfully as if she had just met a long-lost relative.
Kouyou almost rolled her eyes at such familiarity, but instead she bowed her head to her chest and obediently went down the stairs. The old woman, barely waiting, immediately grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the kitchen, where, despite her age, with unexpected energy, she sat Kouyou down on a chair. She herself sat down opposite, as if preparing for a long and important conversation. The small dog, curiously watching what was happening, wagged its tail cheerfully, as if it also understood that something interesting was about to begin. Noticing how Kouyou was stealthily casting glances at her pet, the old woman picked up the dog in her arms and, stroking its head, assured:
"Don't be afraid. My boy wouldn't hurt a fly!"
Kouyou felt a slight sense of relief. This eliminated one potential threat if she had to somehow wriggle out of the conversation using her own methods.
"Oh, I'm not afraid of him at all. He's just so cute," she chirped in a deliberately cloying voice.
The old woman became even more mellow from the praise. Her face spread into a satisfied smile, and her eyes shone with renewed vigor, as if Kouyou had praised her and not a useless animal drooling on the table with a stupid look.
"Oh, you're so lovely, Kaede-chan! But enough about me, tell me how Michizou is doing? I haven't seen him for so many years! Since he left for his America, he hasn't shown up once," she complained with slight sadness.
Kouyou thought for a moment, but quickly pulled herself together and began to compose on the fly:
"Everything is fine. In fact, that's where we met," she said with a slight smile, as if remembering something warm.
"Really?" the old woman leaned forward, not hiding her curiosity. Kouyou had never met such obvious people in her life.
"Yes, we met by chance in a cafe. It was nice to see another Japanese person and finally speak our native language. We started running into each other there more and more often until it turned into real dates and over time we didn't even notice how we fell in love with each other."
"Oh, how romantic!" the old woman sighed, pressing her hands to her chest.
"Yes, you're right," Kouyou agreed easily, surprised by the old woman's naivety, who had been content with a condensed summary of the only romantic movie Kouyou had ever seen. "But I didn't want to arrange a wedding before I met his family, so I persuaded him to come here to get his parents' blessing."
"That's the right decision, Kaede-chan!" the old woman nodded approvingly.
"It's just that..." Kouyou made a sad face, looking down. "Michizou and Hayashi-san don't get along very well. I'm afraid they'll quarrel at this rate, and I don't even know how to help. I don't want Michizou to suffer."
The old woman, noticing her uneasiness, put the dog aside and squeezed Kouyou's hand in her warm, slightly trembling palms. She began to stroke her hand in a motherly manner, trying to comfort her.
"It's not your fault, honey. They've always been like this for as long as I can remember."
"Really?" Kouyou asked with genuine interest. "Can you tell me what kind of relationship they have? Michizou doesn't tell me anything at all."
"Oh, I don't even know..."
"Please! Only you can help me!"
The old woman sighed, clearly considering, but eventually gave in. She let go of Kouyou's hand, leaned closer, and lowered her voice as if she were about to reveal her deepest secret.
"Well, since you're Michizou's future wife, I guess I can tell you," she said confidentially. Her gaze became distracted and her lips parted slightly as if she was about to speak. "I'll tell you everything I know. Just don't judge them too much, okay?"
Kouyou nodded.
"Hayashi-san has always been a strict person. He is a military man, you know, and such people are used to discipline. He demanded absolute obedience from his sons. Especially from Shunzen-kun, the eldest. But he was such an exemplary boy that it seemed he didn't even need to say anything. Shunzen was our pride. Oh, what a smart boy he was! Always first in everything he did, always the best. He did everything perfectly. But with Michizou it was more difficult. He was always... how can I put it... willful. Stubborn.
The old woman paused as if choosing her words so as not to offend the bride.
"Don't get me wrong, Kaede-chan, he was a good boy too! Just... different. Not like Shunzen. Sometimes I felt like Hayashi-san just didn't know how to handle a child like Michizou. He tried to force him into a framework that was suitable for Shunzen, but it didn't work. And instead of understanding that Michizou needed a different approach, he only became stricter." The old woman sighed heavily. "I remember him teaching Michizou to march around the garden when he was very young. Poor boy! He didn't like it at all, but he didn't dare disobey his parents. Michizou always tried to follow his father's every word, but it seemed like Hayashi-san didn't notice. Hayashi-san... he was never the type to show affection. Always serious... always demanding. He was stern if Michizou did something wrong. I remember him yelling at him. Even on the street, even in front of the neighbors! It was so unpleasant. But what could I do?"
The old woman squeezed Kouyou's hands tighter and looked into her eyes, holding back tears. The guilt and shame were written so clearly on her face that Kouyou felt uncomfortable at the sight. She resisted the urge to pull her hands away from the dry grip of the woman, cowardly seeking forgiveness from a person who could not give it to her and did not even have the desire for it.
"What happened to Shunzen?" Kouyou asked cautiously.
"It was terrible!" the old woman sighed heavily. Her face darkened as if she had aged another ten years. "Shunzen died while doing his duty. He was a soldier like his father. A real hero... But his death hit the whole family hard. Hayashi-san became even stricter, colder, almost merciless. Arumi-san, Michizou's mother, withdrew into herself. I think she simply couldn't cope with the pain. Michizou, on the other hand... he lost his brother, his protector. In those days, there was always some sadness in Michizou's eyes. Even when he smiled. I think it was especially hard for him. And one day he just disappeared."
"Disappeared?"
"Yes," the old woman confirmed. "One day, he just disappeared. Hayashi-san said he sent him to some school, but I didn't believe it. I thought he just kicked him out. And then... then I heard he went abroad. I haven't seen him since. I thought he'd never come back... That none of them would ever come back here. And then you say that Michizou is back in Yokohama and that he's even in touch with his father... It's a miracle, Kaede-chan. A real miracle!"
"What happened to his mother?" Kouyou interrupted impatiently before the old woman could start ranting about her happiness for other people again.
"Arumi-san? She always had a weak immune system," the old woman shared sadly, "After Shunzen, Arumi-san was still fine, but the birth of Michizou and at such a late age completely undermined her health. Because of this, she did not love the younger one very much. Not as a mother should, but at least she tried. Only after the death of her eldest son, even this effort went into oblivion. As I said, she could not cope with the loss. Not only emotionally, but also mentally. I heard her screaming at Michizou that he should have been in the grave instead of his brother. How cruel! The screams went on and on until Hayashi-san separated his son from his wife, starting to train him more diligently while Arumi-san locked herself in her room, refusing to believe that Shunzen was dead. Soon this refusal grew into mania. She no longer recognized Michizou, calling him Shunzen. After he left for the United States, Arumi-san got better, but not for long. A few years ago, her hallucinations reappeared, but this time she saw Shunzen in Hayashi-san. Her father came and demanded that Hayashi-san divorce her since he could not take care of his wife properly. Hayashi-san did not agree and argued with his father-in-law for a long time, but eventually gave in. After the divorce, Hayashi-san moved closer to work, and Arumi-san was taken in by her sister.
"It's really sad," Kouyou interjected.
"Yes, Kaede-chan. I don't know if she's gotten better again, but I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you."
"I understand. Thank you very much," Kouyou assured the old woman. Her forced smile was making her cheekbones ache. "You've helped me a lot."
"Thank you, Kaede-chan. Michizou deserves happiness after everything he's been through. I believe you can help him with your love."
"Of course. I will help him," assured Kouyou, elegantly rising from the dusty chair.
The old woman tried for a while to persuade Kouyou to reveal more information about his and Tachihara's relationship, but she managed to avoid it, citing that it was time for her to leave, otherwise Michizou would panic and start calling everyone she knew. The neighbor still did not leave Kouyou's side while she took the few things from Tachihara and his brother's rooms that could be of any value, leaving the half-abandoned house even more empty.
***
Kouyou had returned safely to the Port Mafia headquarters. While she was gone, Chuuya had to go down to Hayashi again and try to find out the name of the spy. Too much time had passed since the politician was kidnapped and the mole had not given himself away. There was a high probability that he could have gone into hiding and hidden the evidence and then they would have no chance of finding him for a long time.
In this situation, there was no point in leaving their captive alive. As Tachihara had said - and Hayashi himself too - there is no benefit from someone who is silent. If Hayashi hadn't said anything important to Chuuya today, this could be his last day.
Kouyou reached Chuuya's office and looked inside. The man was sitting in a chair, muttering angrily to himself as his eyes darted frantically over the papers in front of him. He didn't even look away from them when Kouyou walked all the way into the room.
"How are things with Hayashi-san?" she asked, getting his attention.
"Nothing," Chuuya answered sullenly. "Nothing bothers him. To all my questions and tortures he only either smirks or looks at the ceiling."
Chuuya leaned back with a sigh, looking at Kouyou.
"And what do you have, Ane-san? What about the Tachihara's information?"
He looked exhausted, but a shadow of hope for some progress in the case was clearly visible in his eyes. Kouyou obligingly told him everything she managed to find out, and also pulled out all the papers that she took from Tachihara's old house, separately adding them to the already huge pile of other papers on Chuuya's desk, which had become a kind of symbol of their failure.
"So Tachihara wasn't lying," Chuuya summed up. "However, that doesn't prove anything at all."
"Yes. But it will be difficult to trace his life down to every detail and everything we know about Hayashi cannot be trusted. We will have to work with what we have."
Chuuya sighed heavily and dropped his head into his hands. Several pieces of paper flew out of the stack and smoothly swooped down. No one picked them up.
"It feels like we're going in circles," Chuuya shared. "The only clue Hayashi gave us was Tachihara. That damn jerk makes us distracted and doubt ourselves. Our comrades. And we obediently follow his lead, blaming Tachihara, examining every aspect of his life under a microscope while the guy unquestioningly allows us to do so. It makes me sick."
"Do you think Hayashi is just stalling for time?" Kouyou suggested, thoughtfully crossing her arms over her chest.
"Maybe. But why? He understands that we won't leave him alive if he doesn't talk," Chuuya irritably ran his hand through his hair, his gaze falling on the papers again. "This man is a mystery. And the more I think about him, the more convinced I am that he is playing some kind of game with us."
Kouyou nodded in agreement. She, too, felt that Hayashi was hiding something, but his motives were unclear. Perhaps it was pride or stubbornness. Or perhaps he had a plan of his own that he intended to implement even while in captivity.
"What are we going to do about Tachihara?" she asked, leaning her elbows on the table. "Now that we know he was telling the truth, are you going to clear him of all suspicion?"
Chuuya thought, his face became serious.
"I want to believe that he is innocent. But we cannot afford to be so naive. Until the mole is found, each of us remains under suspicion. Even you, Ane-san," He glanced at her briefly, but remembered who he was talking to and returned to his thoughts.
Kouyou raised an eyebrow in disdain, unimpressed by his audacity. Chuuya continued:
"I'm not going to ruin his life just because of what that old bastard said. We'll keep watching him. If he's clean, he'll prove it. I think that's fair."
"Then what should we do with Hayashi?"
"We didn't get anything out of him. And most likely we won't be able to," Chuuya admitted bitterly. "We'll follow the will of the Boss."
"Indeed," Kouyou smiled ominously. "It's high time we visited Mori-dono."
***
The boss listened attentively to Chuuya and Kouyou's report on Hayashi's situation. His face remained expressionless, but something like interest flickered in his eyes when Chuuya mentioned the family ties between their captive and Tachihara.
Mori nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on nothing. Elise jumped out from behind him and took the folder containing Hayashi's updated dossier, complete with Kouyou's information, from his unresisting hands. The girl, oblivious to the tense atmosphere, settled down on the floor with some crayons and began coloring the pages. Her actions were so carefree that they seemed almost mocking. Chuuya's forehead tightened as he watched his painstaking work turn into childish scribbles.
"And what do you propose?" Mori finally asked, turning his eyes to Kouyou.
"We have two options," she began. "The first is to continue interrogating, although frankly, we doubt that will yield results. The second is to eliminate Hayashi and focus on finding the spy through other means."
Mori thought for a moment, then his lips stretched into a slight smile.
"The second option sounds reasonable," he said. "But before we make a final decision, I'd like to speak with Tachihara in person."
Chuuya and Kouyou looked at each other but said nothing. They knew there was no point in arguing with the Boss.
"Bring him to me," Mori added, his voice soft but with a steely determination.
Chuuya and Kouyou bowed before heading off together to find the young Black Lizard member. Before finally heading out the door, Chuuya looked back at Elise one last time longingly. The blonde was still drawing on the pages. All of her drawings were horrific variations of people covered in blood, if the abundance of red was any indication: one looked like he'd been shot in the head, one had been dismembered by an explosion, and a third had thick red stripes coming out of his stomach that were likely his intestines. But the last one stood out the most: it was larger and more detailed. Elise hadn't finished it yet, but Chuuya already knew how this poor guy was going to die.
A rope was wrapped around his neck.
Notes:
Next chapter: Mori being Mori
Notes to the chapter:
1) Why did I decide to make Kouyou an inexperienced driver? I don't know. Just because.
2) As a completely logical person (sarcasm), I started writing a fanfic without first rewatching/rereading bsd. I get into any fandom in phases that last from one to six months. Sometimes I return to them again. I first got acquainted with bsd in 2022. The phase of infatuation did not last long, but Tachihara was a favorite even then, so I read something about him and simply forgot although it was deposited in my subconscious that in several fanfics in his backstory one of the parents had similar mental illnesses as my Tachihara Arumi. I don't remember the names of the fanfics, but if it seems that you read something similar somewhere, then this is the reason. Plus, I decided to watch the anime again after I finished writing and realized that Arumi's story is somewhat reminiscent of Zelda's. Even Tachihara was originally supposed to study in England, not the US, but I changed that. Coincidence or subconscious? Who knows....
3) Since I'm talking about Arumi I'll tell about the etymology of her name. If Hayashi didn't have any hidden meanings, then Michizou's mother's name means "aluminum". It seemed symbolic to me that her consciousness is as malleable as this metal, and that her sons with their abilities indirectly became the cause of her mental instability.
A moment of personal news: My first teaching practice at school has ended! The children were difficult and did not listen to me and my classmates at all. I was insulted several times simply because in their eyes a teacher who is less than ten years older than them has no authority at all.
After this, you start to seriously doubt your chosen profession 🥲
On the other hand, I didn't expect recognition from thirty twelve-year-old children who saw me for the first and for such a short time. I just feel a little offended for my dignity.
Chapter 6: Cold embrace and soft goodbye
Summary:
Angst, angst and angst
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
After the embarrassing wake-up call on someone else's shoulder, Tachihara's morning had been fairly leisurely. He was currently sitting at his desk, fiddling with the half-empty can of energy drink he'd convinced Hirotsu to buy him.
The old man himself was busy with his own affairs, buried in papers and checking from time to time to see if Tachihara had somehow magically escaped. Gin was sitting next to him, texting someone on her phone, not paying any attention to Michizou.
Neither Gin nor Hirotsu asked him any more personal questions. They left him alone as much as possible, with orders to keep an eye on him, pretending that last night had never happened. But there was something almost fiercely protective about their movements and looks at Tachihara. It was said that adversity brought people together. Tachihara didn't know whether to feel more flattered or worried. He could only hope that their strange behavior wouldn't degenerate into overprotection, which was highly unlikely for people of their character and profession.
Otherwise, Tachihara could not complain about his involuntary overseers.
Around lunchtime, Higuchi came running in with three servings of food from the cafeteria. The rice tasted like paper on his tongue, but Tachihara continued to chew while listening to Higuchi's idle chatter. She was his superior, after all, but sometimes she was acting more like a friend who was desperately lacking social interaction or a newbie who wanted to please everyone around her. The girl didn't seem to be aware of the suspicions about him, or she wouldn't have acted so nicely. It was pleasant and refreshing, though. Her silly stories even made him laugh.
Unfortunately, like all good things, Black Lizard's idyll did not last long. Halfway through the story of how Higuchi spent half an hour looking for her hair tie when it had been on her wrist the entire time, Chuuya-san came in and told Tachihara that the Boss wanted to talk to him. After delivering the message, the man turned away and walked away quickly, not checking to see if Michizou had followed him.
Tachihara's insides sank as he heard about the upcoming conversation. Gin and Hirotsu gave him knowing glances, while Higuchi, blissfully unaware, just awkwardly patted his shoulder and told him not to screw up. It was a bit late in the day, but he took it anyway.
When he entered the office, Mori was sitting at his desk, his face completely ordinary, but there was a glimmer of cruelty in his plum eyes. Elise was sitting on Boss's shoulders, swinging her legs to the beat of some invisible melody and running her fingers through strands of black hair, braiding a sloppy braid.
The atmosphere in the room was correspondingly heavy, and Tachihara felt his breathing become shallower. Despite his best efforts to remain calm, the tension in every muscle was palpable.
"Tachihara-kun," Mori greeted him, gesturing to a chair. "Please sit down."
Michizou sat down, trying not to show his excitement. He knew that this meeting could decide his future fate.
At the same time, Elise began to kick furiously and Boss put the blonde down. She ran straight to Tachihara, jumping onto his lap with all her might and clutching the fur of his jacket with her small hands. Mori-san pouted at the girl in offense, but when he turned his attention to Tachihara, he again acquired the appearance of the most formidable man in Yokohama. His smile promised pain and suffering, while Elise's fist was clenched too hard for someone her size, as if warning Tachihara not to make unnecessary movements.
Not only did Tachihara not dare move, he didn't even breathe.
Elise's behavior was far from normal, meaning that Michizou was in even more danger than he initially thought.
"I heard about your... complicated past," Mori began vaguely. "And about your relationship with Hayashi."
"Yes, Boss, that is true," Tachihara replied, trying to keep his tone even and formal.
Elise's hands dropped to the exposed part of his neck and pressed closer. He felt as if the girl was counting his pulse like a walking lie detector. Maybe it was his paranoia, but he remembered the rumors about how tightly Mori and Elise's minds were connected. Could the Boss now feel his heart beating as fast as the wings of a hummingbird? Feel how cold his skin had become?
"Tell me, Tachihara-kun," Mori continued, leaning forward, "why should I trust you in light of these events?"
The question hung in the air like a heavy weight, and Tachihara felt a metaphorical guillotine appear above his head. He knew that his answer would determine whether it would fall. Taking a deep breath, he tried to summon all the depleted reserves of his calm. His gaze met Mori's and for a moment he felt as if Boss were penetrating the very depths of his being, scanning for the traitorous blood in his veins. It was like a prelude to torture, but Tachihara knew in his gut that to give in now would be to admit to all his sins and sign his own death warrant.
"Because you know it yourself, Boss," he began, choosing his words carefully. "I was, am, and will be loyal to the Port Mafia. Everything I do is for the good of the organization."
The boss raised an eyebrow slightly, but his face remained impassive.
"That sounds like a standard answer, Tachihara-kun," Mori remarked with a slight mockery, as if he were explaining something elementary. "But you must understand that in the current situation, standard answers are not enough."
Tachihara felt his hands tighten on the armrests. Mori was not a man to be fooled by pretty words or appeased by empty promises. Every micro-expression on Tachihara's face, every word, every visible bead of sweat, was now being closely observed and carefully catalogued.
"I understand, Boss," he said, trying to sound firm, though his words trembled involuntarily toward the end. "But let me prove it with actions! Give me a task, any task, and I will carry it out to dispel all doubts."
Elise, who had been sitting silently on his lap until now, suddenly raised her clear blue eyes to Tachihara. Her smile was frighteningly empty and creepy, like a doll from a horror movie. She looked completely different now than the last time they met. In front of him, this was no longer just a capricious and spoiled girl. Elise was a first-class weapon, a sharp scalpel aimed straight at him. If something happened, he wouldn't even have time to notice if her inhuman speed was used to slit his throat.
"That's very brave of you, Tachihara," she said emotionlessly, but with that same doll-like smile that sent a chill down his spine. "Are you saying that you'll do any task, no matter what it takes?"
Tachihara nodded through his growing unease. Mori looked satisfied with this confirmation.
"Well, Tachihara-kun," he said after a long pause that only increased the tension. "I'll give you a chance. But remember: this will be your only chance to prove your loyalty."
"Yes, Boss. I'll do anything."
He would have tried to bow, but he couldn't because of Elise's weight, who kept clinging to him like a damn octopus. Her grip was almost painful, but there was no point in complaining.
"Then," Mori drawled, stretching out the syllables as if savoring the moment, "kill your father."
The words sounded like a gunshot in the silence. Tachihara froze, his eyes widening in shock.
"I... w-what?" he asked again.
"You heard right, Tachihara-kun. Kill your father," Mori repeated with the same icy calm, as if they were discussing something completely ordinary, like the weather forecast.
Tachihara was silent, unsure of what to say. His brain tried to process what he had just heard, but his thoughts were still jumbled. Kill Hayashi? His father? Even after everything he had done, the thought seemed impossible. Unnatural.
"Boss," he began, but his voice betrayed him. "This is..."
"That's an order, Tachihara," Mori interrupted. "Or are you refusing?"
Elise, who was sitting on his lap, suddenly giggled, as if enjoying the moment. A little of her old personality returned, making her more alive. She finally let go of Tachihara's neck, but she was in no hurry to leave his lap, settling herself on it like a comfortable chair.
"I..." Tachihara fell silent, unable to continue the sentence he had started.
He tried to find a way out. Any excuse, any loophole that would allow him to avoid this. But before him was a man who did not tolerate weakness and betrayal. Any attempt to evade an order could be perceived as direct evidence of his disloyalty...
....He didn't value his father that much.
"I will carry out your order, Boss," he finally squeezed out, feeling the words remain as ash on his tongue.
Mori smiled widely, pleased with his answer.
"Very well, Tachihara-kun," he said, leaning back in his chair. "You have not disappointed me. In that case, go down to the dungeon. You have an hour to say goodbye to your father. Then I will join you and personally ensure that you actually follow the order."
Tachihara didn't answer. He shook off the uncooperative and irritated Elise, bowed, and walked out of the office, feeling his legs go weak. Instead of guards, Chuuya-san and Kouyou-san were waiting outside the door, their faces tense.
"What did he say?" Chuuya asked, as if they hadn't both just eavesdropped on the entire conversation.
"The Boss gave me an order," Tachihara answered briefly, trying not to meet any of their eyes.
"Which one?" Kouyou insisted, but Tachihara only shook his head.
"This is between me and Boss," he snapped, walking past them.
Chuuya shouted something else after him, but he didn't hear, wanting to run away from other people.
Tachihara walked down the hallway, his heart pounding in his chest. His legs moved automatically as if they were programmed for a single route, and he was just a passenger in the back seat. Tachihara didn't even know if he had met anyone along the way. He might not remember riding the elevator. He wasn't sure at what point the keys had appeared in his hands. His mind was empty. He couldn't focus on anything except the mantra "Kill your father," ingrained in his cerebral cortex by Mori's velvety voice.
When Tachihara reached the stairs leading down to the cell where Hayashi was held captive, his steps slowed. He paused for a moment, looking down where the concrete steps dissolved into darkness. He felt completely helpless. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to act. But he knew one thing: if he didn't follow orders, he would end up in the grave himself.
Clenching his fists, he forced himself to take the first step. Then the second, third, fourth. The stairs seemed to stretch on forever, each leg lift a struggle. Finally he found himself in front of the heavy metal door behind which his father was. Tachihara paused, trying to gather his strength.
It was just another mission. Just another person to eliminate. Tachihara had done it dozens of times. Why should this be any different?
But he knew why.
Because this man was not just "another one."
He was his father.
A man who, despite all the dislike Tachihara had for him, was still an important part of his life. A man who may never have loved him, but was still connected to him by blood.
Tachihara took a deep breath, trying to suppress the trembling in his hands. They only had an hour before Mori would join in to see Tachihara put on another bloody show at his behest. He couldn't wait any longer, no matter how much he wanted to just turn around and return to the Black Lizard's now home office.
Michizou opened the door and walked inside. Hayashi was still lying on the cot, handcuffed to the headboard. His face was calm, but there was a mockery in his amber eyes. The once clean bandages were again soaked with blood, purple bruises overlapping each other on the man's cheeks.
"You again?" Hayashi said sarcastically. "What, have you come to listen to my 'confessions' again?"
Tachihara didn't answer. He came closer, his steps sounding heavier than usual. The soles of his shoes scraped against the floor, making Hayashi wince in disgust at the sound.
"You're silent," Hayashi noted. "Cat got your tongue?"
"Shut up," Tachihara breathed weakly. He felt like he was about to get a migraine. His father's attitude wasn't helping.
"So you can talk, after all," Hayashi chuckled, ignoring Michizou's tension. "Well, then go ahead, son. Tell me what's on your mind. Or did I guess wrong and you came here for something else?"
Tachihara took another step forward. His gaze met his father's. There was no fear, only defiance. It angered him. Why is Hayashi not afraid? Why is he always so confident?
"I was ordered to kill you," Tachihara said numbly, feeling the words escaping his lips against his will.
Hayashi froze, his face momentarily surprised. His eyebrows rose, his forehead wrinkled like an accordion. But this rare image was dispelled when Hayashi let out a bitter, raspy laugh from deep of his lungs filled with contempt.
"Of course they did. This is the Mafia. What did you expect? That they would spare me?"
No, Tachihara didn't even hope for that. He knew that sooner or later the Boss would order Hayashi to be gotten rid of. After the kidnapping, it was only a matter of time. It was up to Hayashi whether he would tell the Mafia the information they needed or not.
The choice to die easily and quickly or painfully and slowly.
In a twisted way, it was a mercy to make Tachihara his father's executioner. All it would take was one precise shot to the head and Hayashi Yusuke's soul would be whisked away to hell, leaving only a useless body behind.
So why did the knowledge that this man was about to die seem so shocking? Why was Tachihara trying to convince himself that this was just a weird dream? He knew – knew! – that Hayashi wouldn't survive. But that knowledge was abstract, a half-formed axiom floating in the back of Tachihara's mind. He kept telling himself that he wouldn't care, that he'd be glad his father was dead. So why was he so afraid of that possibility now, when there was nowhere left to retreat?
"Is that all you have to say?" Tachihara asked.
An incomprehensible feeling settled in his chest. It was either disappointment, irritation, or melancholy.
"Did you expect a different reaction?" Hayashi answered his question with a question. "Did you think I would beg you on my knees or burst into tears?"
"I..." Tachihara began, but fell silent.
He himself didn't know what he expected from Hayashi. But such a careless attitude towards his own life was incomprehensible, especially when Michizou felt a storm inside himsels. Even the most powerful one of this world would feel at least some anxiety when faced with the threat of death.
"If you're really going to do this," Hayashi said after a few minutes of silence, "do it quickly. Don't embarrass yourself any further."
These words struck Tachihara like a whip. It was as if they had awakened Michizou from the stupor that had gripped him, and he felt the rage within him flaring up even more mixed with the pain of being humiliated by his father again and again, even in this situation.
"I'll decide when to do it!" Tachihara snapped, unable to bear it.
Hayashi just clicked his tongue.
Because his son refused to kill him on the spot.
Tachihara turned away from Hayashi, feeling the rage that had come so quickly give way to a heavy weariness that seemed to emanate from his very bones. He took a few steps toward the wall, rested his forehead on the cold concrete, and closed his eyes. He needed to gather his thoughts to survive this hour.
"Why are you like this?" Tachihara asked quietly without turning around. "You always look down on me like I'm nothing."
Hayashi didn't answer, but Tachihara intuitively felt his gaze burning a hole into his back.
"You know," he continued, his voice growing more intense, gathering strength. It was easier to speak without seeing the object of his turmoil. "I thought that one day you would change. That one day you would understand that I was your son and not just another recruit. But you haven't changed. As cold and cruel as ever. Enjoying my suffering."
"If you're looking for sympathy, you won't get it," Hayashi finally said dryly. "You've always been a weakling, Michizou. Even now you can't make a decision."
Tachihara clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms so hard that they cut through the skin, leaving red crescents. He slowly turned his head towards his father, the mixture of anger and pain that he could no longer hide clearly visible on his face.
"You have no rights to tell me what I can and can't do," he said through clenched teeth. "You never understood me. You never tried."
Hayashi sneered.
"Understand? You think that's my duty? I gave you life, Michizou! And what have you done with it? How have you repaid me? You've trampled into the dirt all the efforts I've made so that you could have a future as a worthy person! You've become scum, a mafioso!
The most absurd thing is that his father was right and wrong at the same time.
When Tachihara was caught breaking into a government safe with Hori and Muroo, two accomplices from a gang he had joined while living on the streets, their life stories were checked. The accomplices were jailed even though Hori had an ability with greater potential than Tachihara. But despite this, it was Michizou who remained free and with a lucrative job in his pocket.
Why did this happen when it would have been more profitable to invest in the development of Hori?
Firstly, because Michizou was not as deeply involved in crime as his older accomplices. Secondly, and most importantly, it is easier to work with someone who already has the foundation. Tachihara actually received a military education. All that was left was to give him a direction which became espionage. It is rare to find a fully trained spy at such a young age as his. If you look at it that way, then yes, Hayashi did help Tachihara become a worthy person, to take a position in the most prestigious unit in existence. But still...
"Do you think I had a choice?" Tachihara shouted, his voice echoing around the concrete room. "I became what I was meant to be!"
"You have chosen the path of weakness!"
"Is it a weakness to you that I survived after you abandoned me? That I found my place in the world despite numerous obstacles?" Tachihara asked him, his voice loud, indignation welling up in him. "I'll tell you a secret, General Hayashi: I became this way because of your fault! You taught me how to kill! You taught me how to obey orders! You were the first to betray me! So be glad that the skills and habits instilled in me by your upbringing are being put to use. Be glad that your legacy continues!"
What right does his father have to blame Tachihara when he himself is no better?
Yes, Michizou became a hunting dog. A harbinger of justice, serving the letter of the law. He loved it. Being useful, being worth something.
But that happened later.
At first he wandered the streets, not knowing what to do with himself now that he had nothing. He was angry at the world, at himself, and at Hayashi, surviving by any means necessary when there was nothing to eat, when the cold was numb in his limbs, when just the sight of him in his filth made people whisper and take their children away.
And it just so happened that the ones who helped him, the ones who first started to appreciate him, even if only for his ability to manipulate metal, were a criminal gang. If he, Hori, and Muroo hadn't been caught, then Tachihara's life would have continued exactly as it is now, only without the need to keep secrets, lie, or spy.
Thanks to this experience, it was all too easy to infiltrate the Port Mafia and return to a role he was once intimately familiar with.
He became a good soldier because Hayashi taught him to be one. He became a good mafioso because Hayashi taught him to be a good soldier and didn't foresee the darker possibilities that it opened up for him.
Tachihara was breathing heavily, his chest heaving with tension. Hayashi, despite his words, remained completely unperturbed. This only irritated Michizou even more.
Hayashi raised an eyebrow.
"Do you really think I should be glad that my son has become a scumbag? Do you think that I am happy to realize that you are a worthless person who could not live up to any expectations?"
"Why should I justify it? Do you think your life is an example to follow?" Tachihara was indignant. "Do you think you are perfect? A person who is always right? You are just a pathetic old man who is of no use to anyone!"
"I never thought of myself as perfect," Hayashi denied, ignoring the last part of Tachihara's statement. "But I know that I've always done the right thing. I served my country. I protected it. And you? You serve criminals. You kill for money. That's not what I taught you."
And that's the whole point.
Their argument was pointless when the information available to both sides was completely different.
Hayashi didn't know that Michizou wasn't a full-time criminal. To some extent, his disappointment and grievances were understandable. And he would never even know that his son hadn't escaped the fate of a military man.
"Perhaps," Michizou agreed. "But never asked if I wanted all this. You always saw only what you wanted to see. You never saw me."
Tachihara bit his tongue to keep from shouting anything about Shunzen. Hayashi didn't notice his hesitation.
"Do you want me to see you? Fine. I see you, Michizou. I see a weak, pathetic boy who couldn't become a man. You are a disgrace to our family. You are a mistake.
"You're right," Tachihara laughed, swallowing the blood seeping from the inside of his cheek. "I'm a mistake. But you know what? I'm your mistake. You created me this way. You made me what I am. And now you're reaping the fruits of your actions."
Hayashi froze, his face serious. For a moment he looked as if the words had hurt him.
"Do you really think you can blame me for your failures?" he asked in a low voice.
"I became what you wanted me to be," Tachihara repeated, emphasizing each word. "You wanted me to be strong. You wanted me to be obedient. You wanted me to be ruthless. Well, that's what I became. Congratulations, Father. You've achieved your goal."
Hayashi was silent, his gaze focused on his son. For a moment, something like regret flashed in his eyes, but it was probably just the bad lighting.
"If you really mean it," he said with cold determination. "Then prove it. Prove you're strong. Prove you're ruthless. Kill me. Right now."
Tachihara tensed, clenching his jaws so tightly that they almost cracked. His hands moved to his holster and pulled out his gun, pointing it at Hayashi's face.
"Okay. If you want it so much."
Tachihara's hand was shaking from the turbulent emotions boiling in his body. Hayashi looked hungrily over the barrel into his son's eyes, as if showing with his whole appearance that he did not believe that Michizou would pull the trigger on him.
This behavior only made Tachihara more angry, giving him the strength to gather his courage and straighten his grip on the gun. He took a deep breath and met his father's gaze without hesitation.
His entire body stabilized, adjusting to the alarm, the screaming slogans of his thoughts: "Kill, kill, kill." Tachihara's finger obeyed and pressed the trigger.
There was a bang. A shot.
And the sounds of crumbling concrete.
Hayashi, unharmed, opened his eyes. Tachihara lowered his gun.
"As expected," Hayashi concluded in an irritated tone.
"Don't worry, you'll die," Michizou assured him. "But not now. The boss gave us time to say goodbye. Use it wisely."
"What, you can't take a step without the owner's permission?"
"Your provocations no longer work on me."
"Come on, don't make excuses. You're just a coward!" Hayashi shouted, losing his patience. "A worthless good-for-nothing!"
His father continued to hurl insults, becoming more and more creative. The handcuffs jingled unpleasantly each time Hayashi tried to reach his son, without success. Spittle even flew out of his mouth several times, landing on the floor at best and on Hayashi's chin at worst.
At last the veil fell. Behind the man who hid behind his aloofness was in fact a wild beast who had fallen into a trap without the possibility of escaping on his own, and was therefore forced to growl uselessly.
Tachihara ignored his screams, staring at the spot on the wall where the bullet he had fired had lodged itself. He thought about how he had lost his temper in front of his father again – for the thousandth time in his life – and nearly disobeyed Mori's orders not to kill the captive prematurely.
It seemed that Tachihara was doomed from birth to fall for his father's manipulations.
If only there was something behind it other than Hayashi's broken ego.
All the fear, resentment, and doubt were flushed out of Tachihara's system with the simple realization that his father was a liar just like him. What he was even better at was deceiving himself. The false nobility that Hayashi thought he still had was astounding. What was even more astounding was that Tachihara had only just realized it now, when all the clues had been right under his nose since he was a child.
The man in front of him no longer had the authority he had had over Michizou long ago. He had nothing really: no love from his wife, no respect from his sons, neither from the dead elder nor from the younger, who had become an unsuccessful replacement for the dead man. He also had no favorite work. Tachihara doubted that his father was satisfied with the position of a simple adviser after so many years of wielding power. Moreover, his military glory, which he boasted about so much, existed only in words shouted out by Hayashi himself. It is true that his career began rapidly and only developed, but after ten years this progress predictably froze in place. The man did not even participate in the Great War, having received a serious wound at the very beginning, which healed after all the battles were over. Only eloquence and flattery helped him stay and advance in the highest circles.
All that Hayashi Yusuke has left now is his pride and dreams of something that can never be returned. Most likely even the uncoordinated introduction of a spy into the Port Mafia by his father was a kind of attempt to regain his fame. Hayashi probably imagined how he would be praised and honored for the fact that he was the one who helped crush the criminal empire despite all the established treaties and the shaky peace.
Unfortunately for Hayashi, his ambitions became his undoing. Now imprisoned, beaten, cold and hungry, he is left with only his pride, keeping him silent when it would be more profitable to speak, and shouting when it would be better to remain silent.
This same pride made Hayashi continue to provoke his son to kill him. Whether it was a suicidal desire to meet death on his own terms, having the last word, or just recklessness, Tachihara did not know. He would not get a truthful answer from his father anyway.
Hayashi continued to curse one-sidedly for a while until he completely died down. About thirty minutes passed in silence, broken only by breathing or the rustling of clothes when one of them moved.
Tachihara was still gnawed by the feeling that this whole situation was wrong, but at the same time, he knew that he wouldn't miss a second time. His father only had minutes to live.
"You still have a chance to say the last words," Tachihara reminded, not for the first time.
Hayashi didn't even look in his direction or flinch.
"Then maybe there is some kind of dying wish?" Tachihara tried again.
Hayashi paid attention to him, but stubbornly remained silent, somewhat reminiscent of a big child who was not allowed to eat another piece of cake. Michizou already thought that he would never get an answer to his question, but it seemed that his father came to his senses at the last moment:
"When I die," Hayashi began, the words rolling off his tongue with venom, "try to bury me and not just dump me in a trash can."
"As you wish," Tachihara promised coldly.
They fell silent again. Tachihara's gaze was fixed on the floor, as if he was trying to find answers to the questions that were tormenting him from within. Time dragged on painfully slowly.
Hayashi, despite his last words, did not seem resigned to the inevitable. His face remained hard, as if he was trying to hold on to the last vestiges of his dignity. But there was something else in the depths of his eyes—perhaps regret, perhaps just weariness mixed with fear. Tachihara didn't know and didn't want to know. He had long since stopped looking for anything human in his father. There was no point in starting now.
Soon the long-awaited sound of footsteps descending the stairs and the sound of the door opening was heard. Tachihara turned around to greet the Boss but saw no one.
"Boss?" Tachihara asked, alert.
He pulled out his dual pistols and peered tensely into the doorway, waiting to see the source of the footsteps. Hayashi curiously rose from his bunk to join him in watching.
However, Tachihara was never destined to find out what the hell was going on as a sharp blow to the head left him unconscious on the floor.
Notes:
Next chapter: general chaos
Chapter 7: Grace of grief and final lie
Notes:
My loyal readers' wait is rewarded with the longest chapter yet. Enjoy~
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
EARLIER THE SAME DAY
There was a polite knock at the Agency office. One of the clerks, Haruno Kirako, hurried to open the door and saw two women standing outside.
"Hello, is this where the detective agency is?" asked the younger looking one.
It's a bit of a silly question considering they have a sign on the door, but it's human nature to want to clarify even the most obvious things.
"Yes," Haruno answered. "Did you sign up?"
"Sorry, no."
"No problem. Wait here a bit. I'll bring some free detectives."
The two women sat down on the sofa and waited for Haruno to arrive.
They were lucky indeed. The Agency had not received any new cases for several days. Because of this, the entire workforce was on site dealing with the paperwork. Many of them were bored, so the arrival of a new case was very welcome.
Haruno looked into the room and addressed everyone present:
"We have new clients."
Kunikida-san immediately lifted his head from the laptop where he had been feverishly typing something. He thanked Haruno and stood up from the table, asking Atsushi-kun and Tanizaki-kun to follow him as he walked. The boys nodded and followed Kunikida like ducklings following their mother.
Together, they returned to the clients and Kunikida invited them to discuss the matter in a café. The women did not protest and thus ADA received a new task.
"I am Detective Kunikida Doppo and these are my assistants, Tanizaki Junichiro and Nakajima Atsushi," Kunikida introduced everyone when they took their seats.
"Hello, my name is Tachihara Sabi and this is my sister Tachihara Arumi," the young woman introduced herself in response.
"What happened to you?" Kunikida asked, taking out a pen and opening a notebook.
"My sister's ex-husband suddenly disappeared. He usually comes to visit her on weekends, but this time he was gone and he didn't even tell me not to expect him," Sabi began to tell him. "I didn't pay any attention to it at first. But then Arumi got a call from his colleague asking if Yusuke was okay. We tried calling him ourselves, but he didn't pick up. So I went to his apartment but found it unlocked and in disarray."
Kunikida quickly wrote down every word, analyzing Sabi-san's story equally.
"Have you contacted the police yet?" Tanizaki asked.
"Yes, but the investigation hasn't progressed yet. You know how it is," Sabi-san answered sadly. "We are worried and want to find Yusuke as soon as possible. That's why when we were told that you have a miracle detective who solves cases in a matter of minutes, we came to you right away."
So they had come to see Ranpo-san. The prodigy detective was currently hiding under his desk eating sweets, but Kunikida didn't tell the clients that so as not to spoil their impression.
"What is your ex-husband's full name?" Kunikida asked Arumi-san.
The woman looked out the window with a bored expression, as if she didn't even realize where she was. Her face was pale and drawn, her thin hands absentmindedly fingering the sleeves of her sweater. She seemed the very embodiment of apathy and indifference.
"Sorry, Arumi often gets lost in her head," Sabi-san said, making a vague gesture with her hand towards her sister. "She probably can't hear us."
The woman spoke tensely as if she was ashamed of her relative. Personally, Kunikida didn't care whether their client was crazy or not, as long as she didn't harm other people. This also answered his question about why an ex-husband would regularly visit his ex-wife. Usually, when a marriage ended, communication between people ended too. But if a sudden mental illness was the reason for the divorce, then perhaps love still remained. At least on one side.
"No problem. Then we will only contact you."
"Yes, that would be better. Arumi's husband's name is Hayashi Yusuke. He works....."
The conversation between them went on and on until Sabi-san had told all the details she could remember. Kunikida took Sabi-san's phone number and promised to call if they had any progress on the case. Arumi-san never said a word, continuing to stare blankly either out the window or at the napkin holder on the table in front of her.
After the two sisters left, the detectives returned upstairs to Ranpo-san who was still under the table. Since the clients had come to them specifically because of Ranpo's abilities, they had no right to ignore their wishes.
"Ranpo-san!" Atsushi called. "We have something for you to do."
Ranpo slowly poked his head out, holding a lollipop stick in his mouth. His eyes lazily glanced at his colleagues as if he already knew what they wanted but wasn't sure if he wanted to participate.
"The case?" he drawled, taking the lollipop out of his mouth. "Is it really interesting?"
"A missing person," Kunikida replied, handing him the recorded details. "Hayashi Yusuke. His ex-wife and her sister are worried because he hasn't been in touch for several days."
Ranpo took the papers, glanced at them and casually threw them back on the table before sitting down on the floor again.
"Boo, boring," he said. "It's obvious."
"Obvious?" Tanizaki asked, frowning. "What do you mean?"
"How can you call yourselves detectives if you can't even solve such an easy case on your own?" Ranpo-san chuckled. Tanizaki blushed, causing Ranpo to laugh good-naturedly. "Okay, okay. I'll help you. But I'm telling you right now: it's a simple case."
Ranpo walked up to the table, picked up his glasses and put them on his face, immediately turning serious. He studied the papers carefully, then closed his eyes as if he was thinking about something.
"Hayashi Yusuke," he began after only a few seconds, "has recently become an object of interest to the Port Mafia. His disappearance is directly related to them."
"Port Mafia?" Atsushi asked, his eyes widening in fear.
It was clear from his face that he was reliving in his head all the moments when he encountered the Mafia and their cruelty.
"Exactly," Ranpo confirmed. "He was kidnapped to get information."
"But why him?" Tanizaki asked.
"Because they think he's a threat to their organization," Ranpo explained. "He's still alive, but that could change very soon."
Kunikida, despite his strictness, was as impressed as ever by their lead detective's analysis. He nodded in agreement with his conclusions, recalling the reports of raids on several shadowy organizations suspected of having ties to the Mafia. Hayashi-san was close enough to the police in his work that he could indeed become a hindrance to Mori and his men.
"Okay," Kunikida agreed. "Then we need to find out where he's being held. Can you pinpoint the location?"
"Of course. Ask Dazai or Kyouka-chan," Ranpo-san advised as a final thought before diving back into his candy storage.
"That's actually quite logical," Atsushi muttered. "They both used to work for the Port Mafia. They should know details like that."
Without wasting any time, they hurried to find Dazai. The bandaged man was sleeping on the couch, his book about suicide on his face, snoring loudly. Kunikida was flushed with anger, the muscles in his temples stood out, and even his hair stood on end like that of an angry cat. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, walked up to the couch, and slammed his fist down on the cover of the book with all his might. Dazai jumped, instantly waking up. The movement caused the book to fall to the floor, revealing Dazai's face with a huge red stain in the shape of Kunikida's fist.
"You're so mean," Dazai sang, rubbing his cheek, "Kunikida-kuuuun~"
"Stop messing around, you waste of bandages! We need your help!" Kunikida shouted.
"I'm always at your service!" Dazai stood up and bowed dramatically, further irritating his partner.
Without lowering his voice, Kunikida relayed the gist of their case to Dazai, who nodded exaggeratedly at every word like a bubblehead toy.
"Dazai-san," Atsushi turned to his mentor before Kunikida could strike the suicidal man again, "Do you know where the Port Mafia might be keeping their prisoners?"
Dazai's eyes sparkled with interest and he walked up to Atsushi and put his arm around his shoulders. Dazai smiled, tilting his head slightly as if he was thinking about the question. His gaze became thoughtful but at the same time cunning, like a man who knows much more than he is willing to share.
"Well, of course I know," he finally said flippantly. "The Port Mafia has several places where they keep prisoners. But if it's someone important, I'd bet on their underground hideout under the Mori skyscraper."
"Right under the skyscraper?" Atsushi asked, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Exactly, my young tiger," Dazai confirmed, patting him lightly on the shoulder. "This place is a vast network of labyrinths of corridors and rooms that stretch throughout the entire Mafia territory. Almost a small settlement. It is well protected and inaccessible to outsiders. If Hayashi really is a threat to them, then this is where he is being held."
Kunikida frowned, his face becoming tense.
"It won't be easy," he said. "The Port Mafia has guards everywhere and getting in there without preparation is suicide."
"Oh, suicide?" Dazai perked up, his eyes lighting up. "That's exactly my specialty! Come on, I'll come with you!"
"Of course you'll go. It's not even up for discussion!" Kunikida snapped, maintaining an irritated tone more out of habit than necessity. "But we need to get President Fukuzawa's approval first and come up with a plan!"
"Can we really just break in on them so calmly?" Atsushi asked uncertainly.
"They raid our office every month. It's time to pay a return visit," Kunikida replied all too calmly.
***
They ended up splitting into two teams: Distraction and Infiltration. The first team consisted of Kunikida-san, Kenji-kun and Dazai-san. The second team consisted of Tanizaki-san and Atsushi. It was decided that their trump card, much to his embarrassment, would be Tanizaki and his Light Snow, which would hide their team's presence from the Mafia's eyes.
Dazai-san had previously drawn a map of the skyscraper's underground, surprising everyone with his photographic memory and terrible artistic skills. Fortunately, Kyouka-chan stepped in and explained the strange, crooked map once again in a more understandable language. Even though she wanted to participate in this mission, President Fukuzawa had strictly forbidden her, not wanting to let a young girl so close to a place that only had bad memories for her.
Getting into a large nondescript van which turned out to have been parked in the parking lot near the Agency building all this time they headed towards the Mori Corporation building.
Yosano-san sat in the driver's seat, making the sharpest turns and braking that Atsushi had ever experienced. When Kunikida-san asked her to drive more carefully, she simply stated that in the event of an accident, no one would die with her by their side anyway. Dazai-san, the only person who would not be affected by her ability, nodded in agreement, encouraging her to drive faster.
Miraculously, the van stopped in the safe zone without a single dent and Kunikida-san as always, took on the role of coordinator.
"Remember," he began looking at everyone with a serious gaze, "our goal is to find and rescue Hayashi Yusuke, not to start a conflict. Dazai, Kenji and I will distract them. Tanizaki, Atsushi, you two are a key part of the operation. You cannot afford to be noticed."
"I understand," Tanizaki-san said, trying not to show his excitement.
"What if something goes wrong?" Atsushi asked cautiously.
"Then improvise," Dazai-san responded with a slight smile, as if everything that was happening was just a game for him.
Kunikida sighed heavily, ignoring Dazai's latest frivolity.
"Is everything clear?" he asked, looking around at the others and waiting for confirmation from each. "Then let's get to work."
The team split up. Kunikida, Dazai and Kenji headed to the main entrance, where they began to stage a small scene to distract the guards. Kenji, with his innocent smile and simple-minded appearance, played the role of a lost country bumpkin and Dazai helped him, pretending to be his worried friend. Kunikida hid to the side, ready to intervene if things went wrong.
Soon enough, more people began to gather at the noise created by the two detectives. One of them recognized Dazai and raised the alarm to the others. The mafioso began shooting randomly, and then Kenji broke a lamppost and began waving it like a fan, sweeping their bullets into one pile.
The shooting stopped when a red-haired man in a hat came out of the skyscraper and began arguing with Dazai-san steadily increasing the volume of his shouts.
Meanwhile, Tanizaki and Atsushi, hidden by Light Snow, entered the building, slipping right past Dazai and Chuuya's backs. Their steps were silent and their breathing was even, despite the combined tension that both boys were generating like generators of endless energy.
Tanizaki created the illusion of an empty corridor around them. As planned, neither people nor CCTV cameras noticed them. Atsushi was once again convinced of how useful Tanizaki-san's ability was. Who would have thought that it would be so easy to infiltrate the lair of a criminal organization?
"I hope Dazai-san wasn't mistaken," Atsushi muttered, checking the map the man in question had given them.
"He may be strange, but you can trust him with things like this," Tanizaki assured him.
When they reached the stairs leading to the dungeon, they stopped to make sure the way was clear. They began to descend, trying not to make a sound. When they reached the underground level, the air became heavy and cold. The corridors were lit by dim lamps, creating a gloomy atmosphere. Tanizaki and Atsushi moved carefully, listening for every sound.
"Do you think we'll find him?" Atsushi asked quietly.
"We have to," Tanizaki-san replied, trying to sound confident, but Atsushi could see that his skin had taken on an unhealthy greenish tint.
They continued walking until they heard muffled voices coming from one of the rooms. Tanizaki motioned to Atsushi to stop and pointed to a door downstairs. They quickly went down the stairs, trying not to give themselves away.
"It should be here," Tanizaki whispered.
Atsushi nodded, his hands shaking with excitement. They both knew that this might be their only chance to save Hayashi-san.
Tanizaki-san slowly opened the door, looking inside. There was a man in the room, handcuffed to a bed. His face was battered, but the features of Hayashi Yusuke were recognizable. Next to him stood another person, a young man with brick hair and a green jacket. Atsushi recognized him as one of the people who had once raided their office. Later he and the other mafioso were thrown out the window by Kenji-kun. The man looked in their direction, but his eyes did not linger on them. So Tanizaki-san's ability was still working.
"Boss?" the man asked.
Tanizaki and Atsushi looked at each other in panic, not knowing what to do next. Even without words, they knew that something had to be done.
They must have been inactive long enough for the man to pull out two guns, pointing them at Atsushi with alarming accuracy. Atsushi almost gave away his location with a squeak, but managed to bite his tongue in time.
It wasn't that he was afraid of a bullet. With his regeneration that was nothing. But alerting the other guards to their presence wouldn't do any good to the rescue operation. The whole point of their mission was to remain unnoticed. They couldn't afford to fail when the their friends were trying so hard to distract the mobsters.
While Atsushi was quietly panicking in his head, Tanizaki-san took a deep breath next to him. His face took on a frightening determination and he tiptoed around the mafioso. Before Atsushi could wonder what his colleague was doing, Tanizaki made a sharp swing of his hand and hit the man in the back of the head. The man's eyes rolled and he fell limply from his height to Junichiro's feet. It looked painful.
"Tanizaki-san, what are you doing?" Atsushi shouted in shock.
Tanizaki blinked and awkwardness appeared on his features again, driving away the previous murderous mood.
"Improvisation," he weakly justified himself, running his hand through his hair.
Sometimes Atsushi forgot how terrifying Tanizaki-san could become in critical situations.
"What's going on? Who's there?" a wary, hoarse voice interrupted them.
Oh, for Hayashi-san it must have looked really creepy right now. Kidnapped, chained, and surrounded by disembodied voices and falling bodies. Tanizaki quickly dispelled the illusion, revealing the presence of both of them.
"Don't be afraid, we are from the Armed Detective Agency," Atsushi said in a trusting, soothing tone. "Arumi-san and Sabi-san asked us to find and rescue you."
"You? Two trembling brats?" Hayashi-san asked doubtfully.
"Hey!" Atsushi said indignantly. "We may not look reliable, but we know how to do our work."
Hayashi-san didn't look convinced, and Tanizaki-san didn't rush to support Atsushi's statement, even with a nod, continuing to awkwardly stand over the knocked-out mafioso.
The tension in the room was palpable and everyone present knew there was no time for doubt. The struggle to accept help continued to show on the kidnapped man's face for some time, but he, like everyone else, knew there was no choice.
"Okay. It is what it is," Hayashi concluded with a resigned sigh. "Forward, my would-be rescuers."
Atsushi walked up to the bed and began to examine the place where the handcuffs were cuffing Hayashi-san's hands to the headboard. The metal was tightly pressed against the man's skin.
"Do you know if he has the keys?" Atsushi asked, pointing at the unconscious mafioso.
"I have no idea."
Atsushi looked at Tanizaki-san pleadingly, and Tanizaki-san taking the hint, quickly went down to search the pockets of the man he had knocked out, trying not to shake his body too much.
"Nothing," Junichiro answered after a thorough examination.
"Okay. Then let's do it differently," Atsushi muttered. "Hayashi-san, don't be scared."
Atsushi quickly transformed one of his hands into a tiger paw and slashed his claws gently but firmly at the chain, trying to find the perfect balance between strength and precision. With a loud clang, the handcuffs broke, leaving only the metal rings on Hayashi's wrists. Hayashi looked from his freed hands to Atsushi with interest. Atsushi sighed inwardly in relief, glad that he had freed the man without harming him.
Meanwhile, Tanizaki approached them and began to explain to Hayashi how they were going to get out of the building.
"I admit you are good for something after all," Hayashi was impressed after listening to the plan.
Hurray! At least some recognition for their work.
Tanizaki-san activated the ability again, hiding the presence of the three people. Before leaving, Hayashi-san turned around to stare at the Black Lizard member lying on the floor for a long time.
"Is he alive?" Hayashi asked, slightly worried as it seemed to Atsushi.
"Yes, of course," Tanizaki assured him. "But he could wake up at any moment, so we need to hurry."
As if to confirm his words, the young mafioso twitch, groaning in pain, his eyelids fluttering but remaining closed. Convinced, Hayashi nodded, and together they headed out of the dungeons. The recently freed prisoner limped heavily but stubbornly refused to lean on any of the detectives, preferring to walk on his own, despite the fact that it wasted precious minutes.
Atsushi was one step away from offering to transform fully into a tiger and carry them to the van on his back just to speed them up. It was a good thing Hayashi understood the importance of remaining as quiet and stealthy as possible.
When they finally got to the streets, the first thing that caught their eye was the reduced number of people. The simple mafioso were clearly no match for the Armed Detective Agency, so instead of a useless mass, more deadly fighters took the stage.
Dazai-san was still fighting Nakahara-san though it was more like a verbal spat. Kenji-kun was facing off against the other two Black Lizard commanders while Kunikida-san was shooting from around the corner to provide support. They couldn't hurt anyone, so it was more like a game of dodging than a serious battle.
Atsushi smiled in relief, having received proof that everything was going exactly as planned. They could really do it. All they had to do was run a few dozen meters to the van hidden in the alley and then they would definitely win!
***
Tachihara woke up with a sharp pain in his head and for a moment he couldn't figure out where he was. He raised his hand to rub the back of his head and felt his fingers hit the source of the pain. There was no blood, but there would likely be a bruise. He tried to focus, but spots still flashed before his eyes. Gradually his vision cleared and he saw that he was lying on the floor of a dungeon.
Tachihara struggled to his feet, leaning against the wall, and looked around. Hayashi was gone. That was fucking bad. He remembered talking to him, but then it was cut off. Someone must have attacked him. But who? And why?
Michizou took a few steps, feeling his body protesting every movement. He knew he had to get out of here and fast. He tried to remember the last moments before he lost consciousness, but his mind was a blur. The only thing he knew for sure was that his father might be alive, which meant Tachihara hadn't followed order.
Trying to fight off the headache, he slowly walked towards the exit. His steps were unsteady, but he forced himself to move forward. When he finally reached the stairs leading up, his thoughts suddenly began to clear. He remembered how he had talked to Hayashi, how he had provoked him. Then... Then he heard footsteps and a second later his world went dark. Something didn't add up.
Tachihara, despite the pain, forced himself to move faster. He knew that the situation was getting out of control and he needed to quickly figure out what had happened and who was behind the attack. When he got out of the dungeon and went upstairs, he was met with a scene of chaos: screams were heard all around, sounds of a fight could be heard, anticipation was in the air. All the mafioso in the skyscraper were currently looking out at the street through the glass doors in unison.
He turned around, too, and saw several Port Mafia members fighting with the detectives from the Agency. This was unexpected. What were they doing here? Was this related to Hayashi? Tachihara felt panic rising inside him. He had to do something, but first he needed to figure out what was going on.
Tachihara quickly looked around for familiar faces and to his delight, noticed Akutagawa, who was greedily watching Dazai and Chuuya-san.
"Akutagawa!" Tachihara rushed towards him with a shout, wincing from the volume of his voice, which made his head throb with new pain.
Akutagawa ignored him in favor of continuing to observe.
"What's going on?" Tachihara tried again, moving even closer to the other so that he would have no choice but to pay attention to him.
"The Agency decided to test their strength against us. They just appeared out of nowhere and caused a stir. It's strange," Akutagawa shared suspiciously, not looking away from the spectacle before him. "Dazai-san must have some kind of plan."
And then all the pieces of the puzzle came together in Tachihara's head.
"Someone knocked me out when I was at Hayashi's," he admitted. "And when I woke up, the captive was gone."
His confession attracted Akutagawa. He turned his head and snapped:
"How can you be so pathetic? Now I understand what all this is about. It's just a distraction."
"But how did they get in unnoticed?" Tachihara wondered out loud, glad that the man in front of him had limited himself to just being rude to him and not using Rashomon's blade on his vital organs.
"They have an illusionist," Akutagawa recalled, his eyes widening in excitement. "An annoying ability, but weak."
Damn. Right. Tachihara had met this guy too. How could he forget about him? But then how would he find someone who could turn himself invisible? How did Tachihara manage to get into increasingly difficult situations?
"If they're still fighting," he began, pointing at the detectives, "that means the illusionist and Hayashi could still be on the premises. Right?"
Akutagawa remained silent.
"I'm going to find them," Tachihara said decisively. "I won't let them get away with disgracing the Mafia."
And it was also his only chance to prove his loyalty by killing his father. He had to do it at any cost.
Akutagawa pursed his lips, but not because he was annoyed with Tachihara. It seemed like he wanted to go with him, but for some reason he was holding back. Akutagawa and self-control were two things that didn't go together, even more so than the ingredients of Tecchou-san's food. Someone must have forbidden him to go near Dazai knowing his obsession. Akutagawa wasn't the kind of guy who could be restrained by a ban alone. Only a select few could influence him, so it must have been an order from someone important. On the other hand, Gin's brother usually did what he thought best anyway, and right now he really wanted to join the people on the street. Tachihara felt that he only needed one strong argument, and Akutagawa would give in to temptation and help him with the search.
He decided to take a chance: "Besides where the Agency is, there's a weretiger..."
Before Tachihara could finish speaking, Akutagawa's eyes blazed with fury and he rushed forward, completely forgetting about the prohibition. As long as it was to his advantage, Tachihara was not going to complain. He hurried after him into the street, avoiding other battles. Kunikida tried to stop him several times, but at the right moment, Gin or Hirotsu appeared, engaging the blond in a dangerous dance of knives and dodges.
Akutagawa was found a little ahead, frozen in place. He ignored not only Tachihara, but also Chuuya-san who was angering him with his willfulness. He looked ahead, as if listening to the slightest rustle or peering into every grain of sand. Suddenly he shouted:
"I know you're here, jinko!"
No one responded. The bustle of battle continued. Akutagawa looked jubilant despite this, as if he knew he had already won.
"Then let's do it my way," Akutagawa said before dozens of tentacles extended from his cloak and began darting in all directions, as if trying to chop up the air itself.
"Be careful!" Tachihara shouted indignantly, dodging another of Rashomon's tendrils that had passed too close to his side.
But Akutagawa didn't listen, enjoying the chaos he had created. As dangerous as this method was, it was not only imposing, but also effective. It was not for nothing that Tachihara had enlisted his help. Two minutes of this empty slaughter and Rashomon finally came across something tangible in the place where their eyes had seen only emptiness. The air began to shimmer, showing glimpses of three silhouettes.
The tiger boy blocked Akutagawa's strike with his beast-transformed forearms, preventing Rashomon's blades from hitting Tanizaki and Hayashi standing behind him.
"Found you!" Akutagawa yelled, and the two young men rushed at each other with murderous intent.
"I'll hold him off, Tanizaki-san," the weretiger shouted at last.
"Stop, Atsushi!"
But Atsushi and Akutagawa are already too carried away by the battle, having passed the point of no return. Now only the defeat of one of them or Dazai with his nullifying ability can separate their fight.
"You pulled off a good trick just now," Tachihara said to Tanizaki, pointing to his head, which was still hurting. "But you still need to work on your technique."
Tanizaki visibly tensed, but didn't move, continuing to block Hayashi with his body. Tachihara didn't really want to avenge the surprise attack that much, though he hadn't forgotten the humiliation of being so childishly tricked. Hayashi was his only priority right now. His father peered over Tanizaki's shoulder, focusing on Tachihara.
"Move," Tachihara demanded.
"No," Tanizaki objected.
"I don't give a damn about you or your detective agency. If you don't move away in a second, I'll shoot you both," Tachihara threatened. "And I'm not fucking kidding."
Tachihara took out his pistols and pointed one at each fugitive.
"I won't let you hurt him," Tanizaki said anyway.
Tachihara narrowed his eyes, his fingers tightening on the handles of his pistols.
"You don't understand what's at stake," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "It's none of your business. Get out of the way."
"This is our business. Hayashi-san's family is counting on our help. I can't let them down."
"Family?" Tachihara snorted, his voice full of contempt. "Hayashi's family hasn't meant anything to him for a long time. You know nothing about him or them."
"I know they want him to be safe," Tanizaki replied. "And I'll do everything I can to ensure that."
Tachihara felt his patience wearing thin.
"You have no choice," he said icily. "You can't protect him."
"I still won't back down," Tanizaki replied firmly. "If you want to get to him, you'll have to go through me first."
Tachihara knew there was no time left for negotiations. He had to act. His fingers tensed, ready to pull the trigger.
"Okay," he said, making his decision. "You wanted this yourself."
Tachihara fired. The red-haired detective's mouth formed a perfect 'o' as two blood stains he hadn't expected began to form on his chest. Tanizaki staggered, his face contorted in pain. He tried to stay on his feet, but his strength left him and he collapsed to the ground, groaning. Hayashi, seeing this, stepped back in horror, his eyes wide in shock.
"No!" he shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the noise of the battle around him.
Tachihara wasted no time in pointing his gun at Hayashi. His gaze was cold and merciless. Hayashi's eyes darted from Tachihara to Tanizaki and back in panic, as if he couldn't decide whether to help the young man or run away to save himself.
"Goodbye, Father," Tachihara said, pulling the trigger until his resolve failed him again at the wrong moment.
There was a gunshot and the sound of flesh tearing. Hayashi screamed, falling to his knees. Blood trickled from his lips as he struggled to breathe through a punctured lung. His father clearly wanted to say something, but instead of words, only a hoarse gurgle came out of his mouth. He still continued desperately trying.
Tachihara approached him, waiting with the patience of a saint for the last words to be squeezed out of him. Hayashi's eyes glittered, as if begging Tachihara to lean closer, so unlike his former self, proud and openly contemptuous of his son. Tachihara, as if hypnotized by this change, obeyed his gaze, turning his ear to the bloody lips and tensing every muscle, as if this would help him better understand the half-intelligible whisper.
"You...lost...."
Tachihara jumped back as Hayashi began to laugh maliciously. It sounded loud and too light for someone who had just touched the line between life and death. Next to him, Tanizaki's dead body sat up, grinning victoriously at Tachihara. He made a two-finger salute and along with the still laughing Hayashi began to disappear in a swirl of green pixelated snowflakes.
Gasps of surprise were heard from the mafioso, and Tachihara turned to the other battles, only to see a similar sight: all the detectives from the ADA, one after another, were covered in a greenish light and disappeared. Tachihara felt his heart skip a beat. These were all illusions created by Tanizaki. They were more insidious than he could have expected. At some point, Tanizaki must have created fakes to cover the escape of the real detectives. Even Dazai, who most likely escaped before the others.
With this realization, a wave of panic arose around him. The most irritated were Chuuya-san, who realized that he had been playing tag with a hologram that was making insulting jokes about him as it went along, and Akutagawa, whose opponent dared to humiliate him in such a cowardly manner. But Chuuya-san despite his rage, at least tried to calm the others down, giving orders and organizing the search. He knew that the illusionist's ability only worked at close and medium distances, so the detectives could not physically get far. Akutagawa was simply so beside himself with anger that his Rashomon was thrashing around like a wild animal, ready to destroy everything in its path, ruining Chuuya's efforts.
It also explained his father's strange behavior a minute earlier. The illusionist didn't know him at all, causing the fake to react in a way that was completely uncharacteristic of Hayashi. And Tachihara seeing his father so pitiful was so surprised that he didn't even think to doubt what he saw. How stupid of him. Utterly stupid.
Tachihara gritted his teeth, his mind working at full capacity to find a solution to this maelstrom of confusion, but everything was blurring together: the screams of other people, the weight of the consequences of failure, the persistent headache (like another parting taunt from Tanizaki).
To hell with it. To hell with everything.
He can also play by his own rules.
Tachihara closed his eyes, trying to focus, hoping that the chaos would help hide his strange actions that he couldn't explain away as pure luck.
He began to take deep breaths, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest. Slowly, the noise of voices and the pounding of feet began to fade, replaced by a low hum that called out to Tachihara, begging him to reach out and grab. Michizou sifted through each one, narrowing it down to something more suitable. And there, among the bobbing giant ships, the containers waiting to be shipped, the beams of buildings, the occasional parked car, the guns of mafioso, the change in pockets and other things, he found what he was looking for.
Tachihara opened his eyes and confirmed that his ability, which he had not used for an unknown amount of time because it was unnecessary, had indeed not failed him. In the opposite direction, where the mafioso were actively searching in the direction of some alley where a large car was parked, Michizou felt several seemingly floating objects running away from him. If he were asked to guess, he would say that they were the metal frame of glasses, metal elements in the farmer's overalls, the metal buckle of an absurdly long belt, metal earrings, and two metal rings from handcuffs with the remains of a metal chain hanging from their ends.
Tachihara reloaded his guns and pointed it at where he felt the metal objects moving. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline making his muscles tense to the limit. Midwinter Memento guided him like a compass, pointing the way for the fugitives.
When the detective group was about to turn into the safe alley, he fired twice without hesitation.
Chuuya-san and Black Lizard turned to him at the noise, becoming witnesses to his completed individual mission.
The first bullet passed right through Tanizaki's arm and with a cry of pain, he deactivated Light Snow, ruining the detectives' perfect disguise. Kenji rushed to his aid, clutching the wound.
The second bullet lodged itself in Hayashi's head, right between his eyebrows. Tachihara had aimed blindly, thinking he would hit the back of his head, but apparently his father had decided to turn around one last time. Now his dead body lay on the ground, looking at Tachihara.
The detectives' faces showed that they had not expected this turn of events. The bitterness of failure, the anger of the merciless murder right before their eyes, the shame of not being able to protect the life of a client were clearly felt even from a distance.
Someone shouted something furious, someone grabbed Hayashi's body and forced the others to retreat into the van, someone shook Tachihara by the shoulder and asked something.
Michizou did not understand a word and did not pay attention. He did not care.
The only thing he could see were his father's wide-open amber eyes, bloodshot from the wound, framed by once long, now broken eyelashes. At that last moment there was no pride, no contempt, not even indifference in them. Only soft acceptance and long-awaited relief.
Tachihara stood motionless, watching as the Agency detectives hurriedly loaded into the van, tires screeching as they carried his father's limp body away to an unknown destination. He knew he had just crossed a line, but deep down he felt no regret or guilt. Just a strange sense of emptiness, as if the gunshot had freed him of something heavy that had been weighing him down his entire life.
Chuuya-san finally approached him, his face serious but his eyes showing something like understanding. He placed his hand on Tachihara's shoulder as if trying to transfer some of his power to him. He was aware of the conditions that Mori had set for Tachihara.
"You did what you had to do," he said quietly, his voice devoid of reproach or judgment. "You proved your loyalty."
Tachihara nodded, unable to find the strength to answer. He knew that he would now have to live with the consequences of his choice, but it was a price he was willing to pay.
"Let's go," Chuuya suggested, removing his hand from his shoulder. "We need to go back and report to the Boss."
Tachihara followed him.
Notes:
Next chapter: tying up the plot before the end. Yeah, sadly there's only 2-3 chapters left.
Other notes:
1) Sabi's name literally means "rust". It won't be stated outright in this fic, but I have a headcanon that Arumi doesn't get along with her little sister and so she projects her relationship with Sabi onto Shunzen and Michizou's relationship.
2) Despite the dark ending, this chapter was actually the most lighthearted. ADA so much fun to write lol.
3) I'll note that I can't help but write cause-and-effect and here I literally had to restrain myself from writing Ranpo's entire train of thought instead of just using the "Ranpo knows everything" trope, although I won't deny that it's very useful.
4) Because of those missing cause-and-effect relationships, I have a nagging feeling that some characters are described as a set of caricature stereotypes. For example, Atsushi is a total timidity on his paws, Kunikida is a screamer, and Akutagawa is a mindless killing machine. I really wanted to write from their perspective. However, my boy Tachi doesn’t have enough screen time as it is. Let him at least have more in TTSS.
5) Sassy Tanizaki? Sassy Tanizaki. While writing I fell in love with the ship TaniAtsu. They are so cute together >.<
6) It’s already the end of May. The summer session is about to start, which means that I won’t have any free time until July, if not later. From that day on the update will be slow, although I will try not to stretch the publication for too long.
Thank you all for your comments and kudos. They help me not to lose interest in writing ❤❤❤❤
Chapter Text
"You're a scary person, Tachihara-kun," Mori told him after listening to the retelling of recent events with a slightly surprised smile on his face. "I honestly didn't think you'd actually kill Hayashi-san. Did you really hate him that much?"
Tachihara was silent, apathetically watching the shadows that were always hiding in the Boss's office. Chuuya-san was also in the room with him, as was Kouyou-san. During the Agency's raid, she was here discussing some matters with Mori, unwittingly causing him to delay going down to Tachihara and Hayashi.
"Well," the Boss continued, not offended by the silence of his subordinate, "I myself put you before a choice. Naturally you chose something."
"I just followed your orders, Boss," Tachihara replied indifferently.
Orders make sense. Orders are absolute. They make him who he is.
They are absolute.
"Yes, I did. But does that really prove your loyalty to the Port Mafia?" Mori thought, stroking his chin.
"What do you mean, Boss?" Chuuya-san was indignant. "Isn't everything he did enough?"
"As for me, this only raises more questions," Mori retorted with the same mysterious smile. "The power of loyalty should not be underestimated, Chuuya-kun. With its help, you can control not only a person and his feelings, but also entire countries. A person without loyalty is a real dark horse. He has no principles, no convictions, no attachments. And that means such a person will be ready to stab you in the back at the first opportunity. What do you think, Chuuya-kun, can I trust someone who so easily got rid of the primary loyalty that develops in a person after birth - loyalty to his parents?"
"Boss," Chuuya began to answer, "but you can't deny that not all people connected to you by blood deserve loyalty. Hayashi was an asshole. In my opinion, Tachihara made the right choice by killing him. Besides, who said it was easy for him?"
Chuuya-san pouted and crossed his arms over his chest as if Boss's comments towards Tachihara had hurt him personally.
"That's true," Mori agreed, turning his gaze to Tachihara. "But that doesn't change the fact that you, Tachihara-kun, by killing your own father, showed your willingness to go to extreme measures. That's both impressive and alarming. Impressive because you're able to carry out any order without asking unnecessary questions – a rare and valuable quality in a subordinate. Alarming because you seem to have no moral boundaries. What's to stop you from killing one of your own people next time? We, despite our activities, are not barbarians. We have our own goals and ideals that prevent us from sinking to the level of common murderers and petty criminals. Each member of the Port Mafia has their own motive for being here, be it the pursuit of wealth, a thirst for glory, or a sincere belief in our cause. Recently I asked why I could trust you. You answered that it was because of your loyalty to the Mafia. Now I'm wondering: why are you loyal to it? What drives you?"
Tachihara paused, considering the question. Loyalty... Why was he loyal to the Port Mafia? Because otherwise he would be killed. Because it was part of his mission as a Huntind Dog. But he couldn't tell the Boss that. Besides, if he was being completely honest, he had already admitted to himself that working for the Mafia had long since ceased to be just a means to an end.
There was always a lightness that came over him on every mission, as if he was freed from all the burdens of the world. The taste of excitement and adrenaline rushing through his veins from a shootout making him grin like a maniac. The thrill of a mission well done, and the pride of praise from his superiors. Not to mention the people. Hirotsu, Gin, Higuchi, Akutagawa, Chuuya, everyone. Even that crazy Kajii obsessed with science and lemons.
Tachihara likes being a mafioso. He enjoys it.
"This is... my place," he voiced this realization, his eyes wide with disbelief, trying to speak confidently and without reserve, fishing out half-formed feelings that were just emerging in his head, distracting himself from more detailed self-analysis. "Here I feel like I'm part of something bigger than myself. This isn't just a job, this is my home. My family."
"So the reason you joined the Mafia was to find your place?"
"Yes, I think you could say that," Michizou agreed.
Deep down, he is scared by how dangerous this sounds for his future. Invisible cracks have appeared in his head and heart. What had been hidden for years could no longer be contained by the cage of his denial.
God help him. He was so, so seriously compromised.
"I'm afraid I don't believe you, Tachihara-kun," Mori suddenly stated coldly, distracting Michizou from his current thoughts.
"What do you mean?" Tachihara asked anxiously.
"You see, I think you're not telling the whole story. Maybe you really did fit in with the Mafia, I won't deny that, but that wasn't your original goal."
"What is this goal then?" Tachihara demanded too sharply out of excitement.
Could the Boss have guessed that he was a spy for the military police? Perhaps the investigation into the Hayashi case gave Mori the idea to delve deeper into Tachihara's history, bringing to light his biggest secret. If so, he's a dead man.
All this will be in vain.
"Your goal was revenge," the Boss stated confidently.
"Revenge?" asked Kouyou-san. "For what?"
"For brother, of course," Mori answered, taking out the photo that depicted his parents and Shunzen.
Having voiced his guess, Mori fixed his eagle eyes on Tachihara, intending to instill new terror in the younger man. It did the opposite. Tachihara opened his mouth to make an excuse, but then fell silent. The Boss was not wrong. Even though he had an infiltration mission, the main impetus for putting himself forward as a spy was precisely the desire for revenge. He did not quite understand how this related to loyalty to the Boss and the Mafia, if the object of his vengeance was also an enemy of the organization. However, he felt a vague sense of relief that his worries had been erased by this statement, diverting the discussion from deadly territory to merely suffocatingly painful.
"You're...right, Boss," Tachihara said hesitantly but truthfully. "First and foremost, I wanted to avenge Shunzen."
"What happened to him?" Kouyou-san asked.
Chuuya remained silent, not wanting to appear rude again, as he had during the interrogation, but his gloved hands drummed restlessly on his knees.
After talking with Gin and Hirotsu, he felt better about his brother. But whether he was ready to tell the reason for his death, Tachihara didn't know.
However, he did not have the luxury of choice.
Mori-san still had power over him, especially now. Tachihara counted his blessings, grateful that everyone in the room had dropped the subject of Tachihara's affiliation and decided that it would be more profitable for him to tell the truth than to fear that the all-knowing Boss would accuse him of lying again.
Instead of words, he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out Shunzen's military dog tag, covered in lines that carried too much meaning for such a small thing, and turned it over a bit, rubbing the scratches before placing it on the table. Kouyou picked it up and began to examine it curiously.
"Yosano Akiko happened, that's what. During the war, she and my older brother were in the same unit. Her healing ability is unmatched and can heal any physical wound."
Recognition flashed across the faces of everyone in the room, and Tachihara continued without further explanation, ignoring the way his throat tightened as he forced the words out:
"You might think it was a blessing to have such a talented doctor by your side, but it was not. Despite its usefulness, Yosano's ability had one cruel condition: in order to heal even the slightest cut, the patient had to be dying. In a war zone, this condition was all too easy to fulfill... It also meant that everyone in the unit was doomed to heal, only to be sent back into battle, starting a new cycle of fighting, dying, and healing. The soldiers were living in pure hell. They couldn't stand the daily torment and would willingly walk into bullets or get caught in explosions just to avoid Yosano's treatment and finally find peace in death."
Tachihara fell silent, feeling that his already shaky composure would not hold up. The apathy from the battle with the Agency that had once taken over his body like a parasite had faded into the background, replaced by the exposed wires of his raw emotions.
"Shunzen was no exception," he continued. "One day an officer brought home a notice saying that Shunzen had died. Killed himself. Hanged himself. The man also brought the rest of his belongings and letters in which Shun explained that he could no longer cope with this torture. Asked for forgiveness for what he was about to do. Among the things was this tag, with every line marking each time Yosano had healed him."
Kouyou-san's eyes widened imperceptibly when she saw the number of lines that were impossible to count accurately due to them becoming increasingly illegible towards the bottom of the dog tag. Tachihara looked at the mocking kanji "正" and felt the indignation and questions building up inside him, ready to burst out like lava from an awakened volcano. Rage and hatred merged in a violent dance, turning his face into something bestial. It was always like that when he thought about this woman who had become synonymous with nightmares.
"So why should she continue to live peacefully when the others died?" he almost growled, his hand on his heart. "Where is the justice for my brother? Who will make Yosano answer for her crimes? I knew that by joining the Port Mafia, I would eventually run into her and get my revenge. That's why I became part of the Mafia. That's what drives me."
The Boss looked at him, seemingly expecting him to continue his outburst, but Michizou had nothing more to add. The Boss's suspicion turned to curiosity.
"Do you think your revenge is justified?" Mori asked. "Do you really think Yosano is responsible for your brother's death?"
"She was the one who allowed it," Tachihara replied sharply. "If it weren't for her ability... if it weren't for her, he might have died like a man, like a soldier, and not like... like a broken toy."
"But she wasn't the one who created this hell," Mori pointed out, without any blame or sympathy for him or Yosano. "She was just a Pawn like your brother. The real culprits are those who used her ability, those who sent soldiers into battle again and again. Why don't you seek revenge from them?"
He stood up from his chair and walked over to Tachihara, looming over him, waiting for an answer. He was unyielding, his eyes darkened so much that Tachihara could see his own hunted expression reflected in them. Michizou gritted his teeth.
The question was simple. He had asked himself the same many times. He wanted to shout that he hated everyone involved in this system, wanted to blame everyone who used soldiers as expendable material. But he was a soldier himself. He knew in his mind that there was no way around sacrifices, especially in war. That orders were orders. And orders were absolute.
"Because they are unreachable," he finally managed to say, barely keeping his voice from shaking. "The ones behind this are too high up. They hide behind their titles, their armies. But Yosano... she is real. She is here. She is like a collective image. A living reminder of what happened. It is she who is called the Angel of Death by my brother in his letters, not some nameless commander. I cannot reach those who started this hell, but I can reach her."
"An interesting point of view," said Kouyou-san.
"Hm. I get it," Mori nodded as if giving his verdict. He clapped Tachihara on the shoulder and slowly turning around, returned to his chair. "Revenge is a worthy cause. For now, I trust you, Tachihara-kun. Let's see what happens to your loyalty to the Port Mafia once you've accomplished what you've planned. Now go. You've worked hard today."
It was a release and Tachihara was quick to take advantage of it, taking Shunzen's dog tag from Kouyou and leaving the Boss's office with Chuuya-san in tow.
They walked a few steps in silence down the corridor until Chuya-san announced:
"These have been hellish days. I think we all deserve a little rest. What do you say, Tachihara? Let's have a drink tonight? On me of course."
Michizou thought about it. He wanted nothing more than to just lie down and never get up, but the idea of relaxing at the bar at his boss's expense sounded tempting too. He nodded.
"Great," Chuya was fired up with enthusiasm. "Then I'll go invite the others."
***
Kouyou watched as the doors closed behind Chuuya and Tachihara and turned to Boss.
"It seems you're up to something, Ougai-dono. Why give him the task of killing Hayashi if you didn't think he'd do it?"
"As insightful as always, Kouyou-kun," he praised with a saccharine smile. "It's true that the test for Tachihara-kun had a different purpose, but it seems even I can make mistakes sometimes."
"About what?"
"Tachihara's motives. I thought he joined the organization to take revenge on me personally."
"Really?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in anticipation of an explanation.
"Yes, Kouyou-kun. After all, I was the one who decided to use Yosano's abilities in that war. But it seems that he either doesn't know about my role in his brother's death or he thinks Yosano-kun is the only one responsible," he shared.
"And how is this connected with Hayashi's murder?"
"After learning that they were related, I assumed that they were in cahoots. It wasn't that I was in any danger, but I wanted to be aware of the presence of a potential killer at my side. After cornering Tachihara-kun with the choice of killing his dear father or being accused of treason, I hoped that he would reveal his true plans by attempting to kill me when we were alone in the dungeons and escape with his father. But that didn't happen thanks to the Agency and their intervention."
"And yet he carried out his orders even when he could have justified himself by circumstances," Kouyou noted. "Does that mean he has proven his reliability or do you still have doubts?"
"Only time will tell who is truly loyal to the Port Mafia."
"Of course," she agreed. After a moment's silence, she added, "I take it you're not going to tell Tachihara the truth about Shunzen and your involvement?"
His mouth twisted at the mention of the name, and Elise, who had been absent until then, suddenly appeared next to him and began to laugh maliciously at his face.
"Unlike his brother, he's a useful Pawn. It would be a shame to lose him over such a trifle."
Elise giggled even louder.
"Silly Rintarou! Still jealous of a dead man."
"No, Elise-chan, don't say that!" Mori whined, going into his nasty mode.
Kouyou disconnected from the conversation of the owner and ability not wanting to think too much about who was jealous of whom and how mature the objects of jealousy were.
"Calling the death of a loved one a trifle? You are too cruel, Ougai-dono," Kouyou pointed out instead. "But perhaps that is the very trait that makes you such an effective leader."
"Cruelty is a tool just like respect," Mori replied. "It's necessary to maintain order. However, like any tool, it must be handled with care. Too much and you risk destroying everything you've built. Too little and you'll be swept away."
"Well, let's see how far your game with Tachihara goes. But don't be surprised if one day he decides he doesn't want to be a Pawn anymore," she warned with a slight mockery.
"I will be prepared for any outcome," he answered calmly.
"What, aren't you afraid that a Pawn can become a Queen?" she continued to tease.
"He can be dangerous, but only within the limits that I myself will set. That is the art of management. You need to be able to foresee the moves of your subordinates, direct their ambitions and if necessary, clip their wings. Tachihara-kun is not that type. He is too attached to his role as a Pawn. He will never be the Boss."
"But isn't the Boss the King?" Elise asked, perplexed.
"Not at all," Mori said with a smile, starting to stroke the girl's hair. "The King is the stability of the Port Mafia. The Boss is the Queen. The figure is strong, but even if it falls, the game will still continue, and as Kouyou-kun said, even a Pawn, if it is skillful enough, will eventually be able to replace it."
"You think too much, Rintarou," Elise said, pouting slightly at the way her hair was being messed up by someone else's touch.
Mori turned his full attention to Elise and began to coo at her and her face, red with anger. Kouyou looked away so as not to see Boss losing the last of his dignity in front of his ability. His tactic of avoiding the conversation was unmatched and guaranteed success in one hundred percent of cases.
Thoughts about Tachihara kept coming back to her. It seemed she had learned too much. She even felt a little sorry for Tachihara, who had dedicated himself to revenge without realizing that he had been working under the auspices of the one who was truly guilty. But it was not her place to reveal someone else's truth. As the Boss had said, Tachihara was useful to the Mafia.
***
Tachihara was sitting at the bar with Chuuya and the other members of Black Lizard. The atmosphere was lively, filled with conversation and the clinking of glasses. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, and the tables were littered with empty bottles and glasses. Chuuya was telling funny stories about Dazai, drawing everyone's attention with an irritated expression. Tachihara, despite the tension inside, was trying to relax and enjoy the moment. The alcohol was slowly releasing the stress that had built up over the past few days. Gin was sitting next to him, her face calm and unperturbed. She would occasionally whisper her thoughts into his ear, but mostly she just watched the proceedings. Hirotsu with a cigarette in his mouth, listened to Chuuya, nodding occasionally, too tired to actively participate in the complaint session that he had heard hundreds of times before.
"Tachihara," Chuuya, flushed from drinking, suddenly turned to him, realizing that his suffering had been ignored by the old man, "how do you feel after all this?"
"I'm fine," he replied, trying not to show his true emotions. "I'm just glad it's over."
"You're doing great," Chuuya said, clapping him on the shoulder forcefully. "Not everyone could handle a situation like that."
Tachihara nodded.
"To you, Tachihara!" Chuuya proclaimed, raising his glass. Someone would have to stop him soon, otherwise he would drink too much.
Everyone around joined in the toast and Tachihara joined them too.
A few hours later, when the bar began to empty in favor of the dance floor, Tachihara was still sitting at the table, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. One of his subordinates was dozing next to him. Chuuya-san was not stingy with drinks, emptying his wallet for the entire horde of mafiosi. The party was in full swing, but Tachihara felt somehow detached, as if he was watching the events from the outside. His thoughts were wandering, jumping from one thing to another, and he could not focus on one thing.
"I'm going to get some fresh air," he said to no one in particular, actually intending to run home while no one was looking.
Tachihara walked out of the bar, trying not to draw attention to himself. Gin had done the same thing some time ago, slipping away into the night without taking a single sip.
The cool night air washed over his face, refreshing him after the stuffy room. The hum of music and laughter was left behind, giving way to the silence of the night city. He walked slowly down the street, enjoying the solitude. The events of the last few days were still spinning in his head, but now they seemed distant and unreal. His steps were light and his heart had finally calmed down a little.
***
The following days were a time of chaos in the Port Mafia, with a new surveillance system being actively tested, including thermal imaging cameras and motion sensors, this time installed in all rooms and corridors, not just at the entrance, elevators and strategically important rooms. This was done to prevent a repeat of the fiasco with Tanizaki's illusions and other similar abilities. At the same time, Mori organized a series of surprise attacks on lower-ranking mafiosi in order to "keep them on their toes and remind them of the need to always be on guard." The role of the attacker was assigned to Gin, who happily carried out the task, attacking at the most unexpected moments and earning a reputation as a ghost.
As for the spy, after the loss of Hayashi, hopes of capturing him were almost extinguished. During Hayashi's imprisonment, the police conducted several more raids, but after his escape, they stopped operations, which eased the tension a little. However, members of the inner circle, temporarily including Gin and Tachihara, began to personally check the alibis and activities of the Mafia members, but no signs of espionage or anything suspicious were found. Disappointment was in the air, but their organization could not afford to stand still, so life went on.
Tachihara himself had escaped this situation without consequences, but now he had to be three times more careful, since the attention of those around him, especially the leaders, was still focused on him and his actions. He found consolation in the thought that suspicion of treason was still better than being killed for treason.
Things were different with Black Lizard. They gradually got into a rhythm, taking on missions and completing them successfully. Mutual understanding within the squad was strengthened after Tachihara's past was revealed, which created a new sense of trust between its members. However, for Michizou, this turned out to be more of a minus than a plus, as the feeling of guilt for lying began to haunt him more and more often. While those around him explained his behavior as difficult experiences after the murder of his father, he understood that this excuse would not last long.
All this stress had an extremely negative impact on his mental health, leaving visible traces on his appearance. Dark circles appeared under his eyes, his skin became pale, and his shoulders were constantly tense, making his hunched posture even worse. More than once, he was stopped by passing mafiosi, even those with whom he had never spoken to, ask if he was sick. He only waved them off, embarrassed, assuring that everything was fine. The situation reached the point where his superiors decided to send him on forced vacation, strictly forbidding him to appear on the port territory so that he could rest and recover.
Then one afternoon, when he was lounging around at home not knowing what to do with himself, he received a call. It was from his second phone, the one he only used for his job as a Hunting Dog. Tachihara took the phone out of the nightstand and saw Jouno-san's number. He quickly picked it up.
"Yes, Jouno-san?"
"Tachihara!" the voice of the other Hunting Dog was clear. "I have news for you. We have received information about your father, but I'm afraid it is not quite what you expected."
"Tell me everything," Tachihara prepared himself grimly. Anxiety began to creep under his skin.
"Of course. To begin with, there was no spy. The police were receiving information from a foreign organization with which the Port Mafia had recently formed an alliance. In this way they wanted to weaken the competitor and strengthen their influence, making the Japanese criminal market dependent on foreign goods and services."
"What?!" Tachihara shouted. "Then why did they kidnap Hayashi?"
"This is also quite interesting. Your beloved daddy was a decoy duck all this time to distract the Mafia and give the police time to finish what they started. The instigator was another politician, his colleague, who was contacted by a foreign organization, but realizing that the Mafia was hunting him, he planted false evidence of Hayashi's involvement, shifting all responsibility onto him."
"This is madness, Jouno-san!" Tachihara complained. "So he really didn't know anything and just kept pretending that he wasn't going to crack until the very end?!"
"Yes, that's right," Jouno confirmed. "He was simply playing his part to deceive everyone, including you."
Tachihara paused for a moment, processing what he had heard. He felt a wave of emotions rising inside him: anger, disappointment, unexpected relief.
Now all that was left was to get it into his head that Hayashi had been set up and that this old devil had decided to play along. And to his glory. He had stalled for time so well that he had managed to ruin his son's life along the way.
Bravo. Just great.
They really are a family of liars.
"By the way," Jouno-san began, as if he hadn't just dropped an emotional bomb on Michizou. Trust Jouno-san to rip off a band-aid and he'll rip it off along with the skin. "I asked Captain Fukuchi to help free him, but I couldn't supervise the process. He did it, didn't he?"
"I...I'm not sure," Tachihara admitted. "At some point, detectives from the Armed Agency showed up and kidnapped Hayashi. One of them mentioned that they did it at the request of the family. It's possible that it's related."
"The Armed Detective Agency, you say?" Jouno said thoughtfully. "As far as I remember, the Captain has a friend working there. Maybe he gave your relatives a tip to contact them."
"I see. If that's the case, then convey my gratitude to him, Jouno-san," Tachihara asked.
"Well, if you say so, then the Captain's help arrived in time and everything is okay with your father?"
"About that..." Tachihara hesitated, "I don't know yet."
"That is?"
"Um, I might have, like, um...shot him a little bit for the last time," Tachihara answered, wincing.
"Tachihara-kun, you never cease to amaze me," Jouno-san declared proudly. "Working for the Mafia is starting to take its toll, huh? Now you're even shooting at civilians?"
"I had no choice!" Tachihara protested, blushing. "And I told you he could have survived. I slowed the bullet down when it hit. If he's a lucky son of a bitch, the agency doctor will fix him in no time."
"You mean that Angel of Death you hate so much? I thought you'd rather finish off Hayashi than trust her."
"Yeah, I thought so too," Tachihara sighed. "But it was the only chance for him to survive. And I took it. Even if I didn't like it."
"I see," Jouno-san said, a little disappointed, losing interest in the story when it turned out that there were no particularly gory details. "Well then, farewell, Tachihara-kun, I'm not a slacker like some people."
"Jouno-san, wait!" Tachihara shouted before the man hung up. "Can you somehow release information about Hayashi and his role or just give it to the Mafia? Mori still hasn't given up on finding the spy, and it's really not helping my job."
"Well, I don't know, Tachihara-kun," Jouno drawled in a tone that reveled in his suffering. "It never hurts to practice being a secretive spy."
"Jouno-san. Please."
"You do remember that I'm not doing this for free, right? You owe me a favor, and you have no right to refuse, even if I force you to be my test subject for a new torture method," Jouno said good-naturedly sending shivers down Tachihara's spine.
Tachihara took a deep breath, calming his irritation. Jouno would probably just make him deal with another one of Teruko-san's tantrums for him. In their circle, that was a kind of currency for any favor.
"I remember. And I'll owe you even more," Tachihara offered humbly.
"Good boy," Jouno-san concluded in a high-pitched voice, the kind one would use with small children or dogs. "Very well, I'll help my dear kohai. In the coming days expect the mafiosi to start running around in rage over their shameful mistake."
"Okay..."
Jouno-san ended the conversation with telling him not to strain himself too much, and Tachihara leaned back on the pillow.
Fucking Hayashi Yusuke.
Tachihara was sure he wouldn't back down the first time, and he was wrong. The second time he fired, but it was an illusion. The sight of his father dying, even if it wasn't real, terrified him deep inside. When he felt Yosano nearby, the first thought that came to his mind wasn't to kill her, but that now he didn't have to carry out image created by Tanizaki's ability. He could refuse to make the terrible choice. To cheat. Tachihara had never been superstitious, but at that moment, fate seemed to be telling him to stop and think and not blindly follow orders.
But the orders made sense. The orders were absolute. The orders made him who he was.
He took the risk anyway.
For the first time in his life, he deliberately disobeyed an order.
The world did not stop. His body did not lie at the bottom of the sea.
He doesn't know how he feels about it.
Mori's words about loyalty floated into his mind. About loyalty being the foundation of everything. But could he be loyal when there was a storm of doubt raging inside him? Could he continue to live knowing that he had betrayed everyone he could? He had betrayed the Boss by disobeying him. He had betrayed Black Lizard by pretending to be someone he was not every day. He had betrayed the Hunting Dogs by becoming too attached to outsiders. He had even betrayed himself by trusting Yosano and throwing away his years of promises of revenge. Where did his loyalty lie now?
"Damn it," he whispered, fists clenching the sheets. "What's wrong with me, Shun?"
There was no answer. Only the silence of the night, only his own breathing and heartbeat. He was alone. Always alone. Even among the people who called him their own. Even among those who trusted him.
"Working for the Mafia is starting to take its toll, huh?" Jouno-san's voice responded mockingly.
Maybe he was right. Maybe the Mafia was changing Tachihara more than he wanted to admit. He was no longer the same man who had joined the Hunting Dogs. He was no longer the man who had wanted to avenge his brother at any cost. He had become someone else. But who?
Notes:
I had an unexpected day off and decided to use it for a fanfic instead of writing a report. I might regret it tomorrow.
Other notes:
1) I don't consider Hayashi's unknown state a cliffhanger. There is no character death tag. That says it all.
2) Mori: *orders Tachihara to kill Hayashi
Tachihara: *kills Hayashi
Mori: 👁👄👁3) Tachihara throughout the chapter: *Premature Identity Crisis Mode activated*
4) Now for a serious question. I recently saw someone on Tumblr write: "I saw someone refer to the band-aid on Tachihara's nose as a literal "plaster-" Do you do this? I don't cuz I find it weird...."
In my fanfic it's "plaster". I'm not a native speaker. For me many of the subtleties in the meanings are unclear, so I just hope for the best. Actually, I'm Russian and this word in my language sounds like "plastyr' (пластырь)", so it's understandable why I prefer this option. But if it's really that weird, then I can change it to "band-aid" or something like that. Like any other words. Only I need to point it out directly🥲
Same with the kanji 正 on Shunzen's dog tag. I saw that in English translation it means "correct", but in Russian it's "justice". Maybe somewhere there is also "justice", but I only came across "correct".
Chapter 9: Learn from pain and stay alive
Notes:
I'm alive! And I'm back with more backstory, angst and child abuse (it's a warning)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The first thing that surprised Hayashi when he opened his eyes was that he could open them at all. He blinked away the last of the haze and looked around. He wasn't in a basement or a hospital, although the setting resembled an infirmary: there were some jars on the shelves, anatomy posters on the walls, the smell of medicine hung in the room. He himself was lying on a bed, covered with a blanket. There were no IVs, no heart monitors, no bandages around his neck. There was no pain, only weakness throughout his body. Hayashi moved his hands, bending and straightening his fingers to make sure that his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. Everything worked fine, although the movements seemed a little slow. He raised himself, trying to sit up, but dizziness stopped him from moving too quickly. A groan escaped his mouth in surprise.
Apparently it was quite loud.
From somewhere came the sound of a chair creaking on the parquet floor and the leisurely tapping of heels. A second later, the curtain was pulled back and a woman in formal clothes reminiscent of office wear appeared before Hayashi. She held herself with grace and dignity, approaching him with the air of a queen surveying her domain. Yusuke immediately realized that she was not just a kind, caring nurse.
"You're awake, Hayashi-san," she said. "Do you remember what happened?"
Yusuke frowned as he recalled the details. He remembered Michizou and how he had chased the two boys from the agency. He remembered how the red-haired detective's ability had tricked the mafia and made them invisible.
Hayashi remembered feeling someone's gaze, turning around to see his son. And then a bullet fired with icy cruelty, flying straight at him.
"He shot at me," he croaked and coughed, feeling like thousands of needles were piercing his throat from the long silence.
The woman took the decanter from the nightstand, poured water, and handed him a glass, as if she had foreseen what would happen. Hayashi drank the contents greedily, feeling himself getting better.
"Where am I?" he asked after another minute.
"You're at the Armed Detective Agency," the woman replied. "I'm your doctor, Yosano Akiko. Don't worry about anything for now, Hayashi-san, your life is out of danger. You'll be fully recovered soon. Right now you need to rest more."
That name...Yosano. The Angel of Death. It seemed that fate never stopped throwing new challenges at him. First Michizou, now her. Hayashi wanted to laugh at the irony of his situation, but he only closed his eyes, feeling the fatigue wash over him as if summoned by Yosano's words. Questions were still spinning in his head, but he knew that now was truly not the time for thinking. His body needed rest, and his mind needed a reboot.
When he woke up again, the room was brighter. Yosano was sitting on a chair next to the bed, intently filling out medical records. Seeing that he was awake, she put the papers down and smiled at him. She stood up and walked to the door, shouting to someone that he was conscious again. A tall blond man with glasses and a notebook in his hands walked into the room. His movements were confident and his gaze was searching.
"Good morning, Hayashi-san," he greeted. "How are you feeling?"
"Better, thank you," Hayashi replied, trying not to show how puzzled he still was.
"Excellent. If you have any questions, we are ready to answer them," the man offered, crossing his arms over his chest.
Hayashi thought for a moment before asking.
"Why am I still alive?"
Hayashi may not have been a doctor, but he knew that after what he had been through, people usually didn't survive.
Angel seemed to be just waiting for him to ask. A sadistic smile spread across her face as she walked briskly to the nightstand next to his bed and pulled out a test tube with a piece of metal at the bottom.
"That bullet entered your head, causing a skull fracture and a brain hemorrhage, but it got stuck about a third of the way through with no further progress. I was nearby, so I was able to heal you with my ability," Yosano explained enthusiastically, as if it were an exciting experience for her. "Otherwise you would be dead."
"You're very lucky, Hayashi-san," the man interjected, agreeing with the doctor's assessment. "Thanks to this, we have reason to believe that the Port Mafia believes you're dead, so they won't be pursuing you any further. However, just in case, we'll keep you within the walls of our agency to make sure there's no surveillance."
Hayashi didn't listen. He didn't care about all these little things. He looked at the bullet and couldn't stop thinking that it wasn't luck that helped him. It couldn't be a coincidence. Michizou never misses. Hayashi personally taught him that. Unless it was done on purpose. Hayashi couldn't believe that his son, despite all their disagreements and enmity, still decided to spare him. Where had all the bragging about how strong and ruthless he was gone? Where had all the fierce hatred gone?
"Hayashi-san!" the detective impatiently drew his attention. "You did not answer. I asked if you would agree to stay here, or would you be more comfortable under the protection of the police?"
"It will be fine here," he said.
"Good. Then be our guest. We will contact the investigator on your case and help organize witness protection."
The man bowed and left, leaving him alone with Yosano. She hovered over him like a hawk, as if expecting something else to happen to him, something as extraordinary as what he had experienced.
"Are you worried about something, Hayashi-san?" she asked finally, seeing something in his displeased expression.
"What makes you think that, sensei?"
"You just don't look very happy for someone who just returned from the other world."
"I've already accepted that my death is inevitable. Even breathing seems inappropriate to me now," Hayashi shared.
"You are alive, though," she noted.
"Yes, but was it worth it?" he wondered out loud.
"Find out for yourself. Live, Hayashi-san. Take advantage of the second chance," she said and went about her business.
She was apparently speaking from personal experience. Ironically, this advice came from a woman who had killed one of his sons, but who had also saved him from being killed by another.
Hayashi lay in bed thinking about Yosano's words. A second chance... What did that mean to him? He had always believed that his life was predetermined, that his path was paved in advance, and his role was simply to follow it. But now that fate had given him the chance to start over, he felt lost. He had never thought about what he would do if he managed to survive. His life had always been tied to duty, to his country. He was going to die for it. For his ideals. But now that he was free of those shackles, he didn't know how to use his freedom.
With nothing better to do, his thoughts turned back to Michizou. Why had his son decided to spare him? Was it an act of mercy or a carefully planned revenge? Hayashi didn't know, but he felt that this decision changed everything. His mind began to drift, recalling all the events that had led him and Michizou to this moment, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong.
*****
Arumi had always been honest with Yusuke about wanting only one child in their marriage. Her arguments were simple: more children would bring extra trouble. She believed that if there were several, one of them would inevitably feel deprived of their parents' attention and love, which would lead to quarrels and rivalry; that it was more financially and physically beneficial to invest in one person rather than being torn between two or more. In general, Yusuke agreed with her reasoning. As long as he had an heir, he was content. And he was right: Shunzen quickly became their family treasure.
Years later, when Arumi found out she was pregnant with her second child, her first reaction was predictable - she was totally against it. The pregnancy was unplanned and Arumi even considered abortion. Yusuke, however, convinced her to reconsider. He reminded her of how wonderful their first child had grown up thanks to their efforts and care. So why not try again? They had experience and could avoid the same mistakes. Arumi hesitated for a long time, but everything changed when Shunzen accidentally found a pregnancy test. The boy declared with determination that he would be the best big brother for his future sibling. Seeing her son genuinely happy instead of afraid of being pushed into the background, Arumi changed her mind. She agreed to carry the child and give him life.
On the hottest day of the summer, Michizou was born with a loud cry that echoed throughout the hospital. The baby was born perfectly healthy, but due to complications with Arumi, the mother and child were not able to leave the hospital until a month and a half later. In the years that followed, she spent a long time recovering from the birth, but her health never returned to its previous state. Weakness and fatigue became her constant ailments.
Raising two children turned out to be much more difficult than either of them expected. Arumi was unable to fully engage in maternal duties due to her health and Yusuke was too busy with work to help. The main care of little Michizou fell on the shoulders of Shunzen, who kept his word and became a perfect older brother, constantly helping his mother and taking on the care of the younger one when illness inevitably confined her to bed.
Perhaps this is why Michizou became closest to Shunzen rather than to his absent father or distant mother.
Michizou grew up as an inquisitive and active child. He learned to walk and talk quite quickly for his age. Shunzen helped his brother develop his motor skills with games he invented himself. He also often read his favorite poems out loud, making Michizou repeat easy lines after him. It seemed that Michizou was destined to become a genius like his brither. It seemed that Yusuke was right when he decided to have another child.
Having established his career, Yusuke decided that it was time for him to contribute to his youngest son. He clearly remembers the day he approached the little boy playing on the lawn with two toy animals. Michizou looked up at his father, his eyes wide and awe-struck. Amber eyes like his own were intent and even slightly wary. To the little boy, his father figure had always been mysterious yet intriguing.
Yusuke reached out and picked up one of the plushie, examining it carefully, as if assessing what kind of toy had captivated his son so much. He then knelt down next to Michizou.
"Michizou, do you know who I am?"
The boy nodded, clutching the second teddy bear, puppy, or whatever the brown anthropomorphic lump of fabric was.
"You're my dad," Michizou replied, his voice thin and a little uncertain.
Yusuke nodded, satisfied with the answer.
"Right. Do you know what dad does?" he asked, trying to establish contact.
Michizou thought, his small face frowning as he tried to find an answer.
"Are you... working?" he suggested.
"Yes, I work. But my job is not just a job. I protect people," he said, trying to explain it in a way the child would understand.
Michizou's eyes widened and admiration flashed in them.
"Like a superhero?" he asked breathlessly.
Yusuke laughed, his laugh short but warm. Even he could be moved by the simplicity and sincerity of a child. Pride swelled in his chest at the sight of his son's open reverence.
"Something like that," he answered. "But to become like me, you need to learn a lot. Do you want to become like me? Do you want to learn?"
Michizou nodded enthusiastically, shining like a light bulb.
"Yes!" he exclaimed.
Yusuke reached out to pat the boy on the head.
"Then let's start with something simple," he said. "Tomorrow morning I'll show you how to stand properly. It's important for any warrior."
From that day on, intense training began. Yusuke did not give the boy any slack, passing on to him all the knowledge he had received from his father, as well as what he had already managed to pass on to Shunzen.
He was honestly patient, blaming his clumsiness on his age and inexperience. After all, Shunzen had been the same at first, and now the teenager was as skilled as any professional. He just had to wait until Michizou's body got used to the physical exertion and then his hidden potential would be revealed.
But the years went by.
Michizou grew older, but his skills seemed to have not increased. He would still look at his father with a reverent gaze, and the next moment he would trip over his own feet, falling face first on the floor, or stumble over his words, addressing him too familiarly, forcing Yusuke to wonder where he had miscalculated. More and more often, the general lost himself in thoughts about why Michizou did not live up to his expectations. He compared the younger son with the older one, and in each comparison Michizou lost. He tried to find the answer in himself, in his methods of upbringing, but each time he came to the conclusion that the problem was not in him, but in Michizou. He was not as goal-oriented as his older brother. He was not as focused and disciplined. His interests and attention were scattered. The only thing the boy was good at was, perhaps, unquestioning obedience. But this was not enough. Yusuke's patience was beginning to run out.
One day, after another training session, when Michizou failed to complete the exercise again, Yusuke could not stand it any longer. His voice was cold, but there was a growing anger in it.
"Do you even understand why I'm doing this?" he asked, looking down at his son. "I'm trying to make a real man out of you. But you... You're not even trying, Michizou."
The boy, breathing heavily after his failed attempt, looked up at his father with eyes that showed fatigue and resentment.
"I'm trying, da..." he whispered, barely holding back his tears.
"Not enough," Yusuke snapped. "If you can't even handle that, how are you going to protect your country? Or do you think Shunzen will always be there to cover for you?"
The mention of his brother made Michizou lower his head.
"I will try harder, father."
"This is where you should have started. Now start again."
The boy obediently began to follow his orders. Yusuke watched as Michizou tried to perform the exercise over and over again. His limbs trembled, but the boy did not give up. He clenched his teeth, endured, fell, but each time he got up and started again. Yusuke could not help but acknowledge his persistence, but this persistence did not bring the desired results. He felt irritation growing inside him.
"That's enough," he finally said, waving his hand sharply. "That's enough for today."
Michizou froze, his shoulders slumping slightly, but he didn't argue. He simply nodded, rubbing his bruised knee and headed toward the entrance of the house. Yusuke watched him go, feeling a strange mixture of emotions. He wanted his youngest son to be strong, to be proud of him, like he was proud of Shunzen. But instead, he felt only disappointment.
*****
Shunzen went to war but never returned.
The body of his beloved boy was left to rot forever in the lands of Tokoyami Island, mixed with other bodies of Japanese and enemy soldiers. All that was left of him were untouched belongings, precious memories and an endless stream of condolences.
Yusuke couldn't believe that Shunzen's life had ended so easily and so meaninglessly.
He was the best of the best. How could this happen? Why him? Why did it have to be him and not someone else, someone less worthy? Why not...why not Michizou in the end?
Yusuke bit his tongue, feeling a moment of self-loathing for the thought, but it kept coming back like a pesky mosquito buzzing around his ear, sounding more appealing in his head each time. More and more, he couldn't help but agree with the belief that the world had made a terrible mistake in leaving his youngest son alive instead of his eldest. It wasn't fair. Why should Yusuke settle for scraps? He'd invested so much hope in Shunzen to become his continuation. Michizou, on the other hand... Michizou was useless and stupid no matter how hard Yusuke tried to rehabilitate him.
The general sank into this sense of injustice like a quagmire, which was drawing him deeper with each passing hour. The questions repeated themselves in a circle, but found no answers. One thing remained constant: Shunzen was dead and Yusuke was alive. Shunzen was dead and Michizou was alive.
He was alive and becoming more and more stubborn and uncontrollable.
While Shunzen was fighting for the country and unable to keep his wayward younger brother in check, Michizou became capricious and disobedient, selfishly telling his father that he no longer wanted to be a soldier. He didn't want to be like Yusuke. It got to the point where he would throw tantrums and cry loudly, refusing to train.
Why was he so difficult, so impudent? Shunzen was never like that. He would never allow himself to behave so badly...never...ah, if only he were alive...if only...
It became unbearable to look at Michizou - he was too much like his brother at the same age. Yusuke decided that there was no point in trying to make anything out of Michizou anymore when all his efforts were met with ingratitude anyway. So he began to avoid him and his painfully familiar piercing amber eyes as much as possible.
Michizou, in turn, feeling his father's aloofness, tried his best to earn his attention, but each time he was met with a cold wall of indifference. Driven by his egocentrism and greed, Michizou found increasingly annoying ways to make Yusuke stop ignoring him. The boy would come up to him out of the blue and start clinging to his pant legs. He would start begging him again to study with him, not taking "no" for an answer. He would start asking questions to which Yusuke had no answer, understandable to a five-year-old.
Sooner or later, Yusuke would get fed up with Michizou's childish behavior and he would lose his temper, yelling mercilessly at his son and letting out all his pent-up anger. But even these negative reactions seemed to be something important to Michizou. As if his father's anger was his ultimate goal, the only way to feel noticed.
It was a pitiful sight.
Unwilling to watch Michizou continue to embarrass him by making himself look like a weakling who was hungry for any bit of attention, Yusuke practically stopped coming home, only coming to sleep, shower, and change clothes.
So Yusuke spent some time in a state resembling frozen apathy. He ate if there was food in front of him. Drank if there was water in front of him. Wrote reports and attended meetings when he was away from home. Slept when the moon lit up the night sky. Yelled at Michizou if he showed up with a hurt or sad expression. Ignored Arumi's ramblings when she was tossing and turning in nightmares next to him.
The next day, it all started over again.
Perhaps this was his first mistake.
Perhaps he had been wrong to isolate himself from his family, too blinded by his own grief and disappointment, to take a moment to notice that they were suffering just as he was.
He didn't even notice that some of them were not coping with the loss at all, taking it out on the only living creature left in their house of sorrow.
Arumi, his beloved wife, once a passionate woman, was now a shadow of her former self. While he and Michizou tested each other's patience, while Yusuke ran away from the suffocating family environment, Arumi was quietly sliding into the abyss of madness.
On rare visits home, he would often hear her whispering the dead man's name in a desperate tone, staring at family photos for hours. He chalked it up to her way of dealing with grief, so he didn't interfere.
He had seen more than once that she looked at Michizou with open hatred, but he did not attach any importance to it, since he too often caught himself thinking that the presence of this child nearby was like toxin poisoning their lives.
Maybe it was his fault that he didn't notice when the whispers and looks turned to something uglier.
*****
An old acquaintance of Yusuke invited him to watch the training of young soldiers. It was at that moment that his personal phone rang, breaking the silence. The unexpected call made one of the young men passing the obstacle course suddenly raise his head. He would have injured himself on the barbed wire if not for the protective helmet. Such carelessness definitely cost him a few points.
"I beg your pardon," Yusuke apologized to his acquaintance, to which he merely waved his hand.
Yusuke found a place where the noise was not so loud and looked at the caller's name.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Tachihara-san. This is Michizou's class teacher calling."
"What did he do again?" Yusuke asked, imagining what he would do to this little brat if he dared to do something shameful again.
"Actually, I wanted to check if he was okay? He hasn't been to school for weeks and neither you nor your wife have said he was sick," the woman said in a disapproving tone.
"He wasn't you say?" Yusuke asked thoughtfully.
"Yes, he wasn't," the teacher confirmed. "We tried to contact your wife earlier, but we couldn't get through."
Yusuke frowned, feeling irritation welling up inside him - his new constant companion when it came to Michizou. He was sure his son left home every day for school. Or at least pretended to go.
Not only does he have a bad character, but he also became a truant. What a shame. Yusuke won't let this go.
"Thank you for letting me know. I'll look into it," he replied dryly and ended the call.
Yusuke returned to overseeing the training. Many soldiers were receiving low marks that day.
When Yusuke returned home, it was much brighter outside than it usually was when he finished work. When he went inside, he didn't hear any sounds. Arumi was found in the kitchen. She was sitting at the table drinking tea. Across from her was a plate of food that was getting cold, but Michizou was nowhere to be seen. Hearing his footsteps, Arumi turned her head towards him and smiled slightly.
"Darling, you are early today. Will you join us for dinner?" she asked.
"Thank you, but I'm not hungry. Is son home?"
"It's very funny, Yu, he's right in front of you," she said, continuing to calmly raise the cup to her mouth.
Yusuke looked around several times, puzzled, but Michizou was clearly not in the room. His gaze involuntarily lingered on the lonely plate.
"Arumi?" he asked his wife carefully as she took a sip. "There's no one here but us."
"Don't be silly. This is not funny."
"I'm not joking. Where's Michizou?" Yusuke almost shouted.
Arumi still flinched, her eyebrows drawing together in tension, her lips pressed together in a grimace.
"Michizou? Who is this?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.
"Wha... Michizou is your son. Are you drunk or something? Why are you acting so strange? Where is he?" Yusuke demanded, becoming even more worried.
"I'm definitely fine. You're the weird one!" she snapped, standing up.
Her eyes widened, her fingers curled into fists. Yusuke noticed how much skinny and paler she had become - she looked like a living skeleton. Her hair was thinning and fading. It had been longer, hanging over her shoulders like a veil, but now it barely reached her jawline. When had this happened?
He took a step forward, but Arumi raised her hand as if trying to stop him.
"Our son, Shunzen, is here," she said, emphasizing each syllable of the forbidden name, but her voice sounded as if she was convincing herself.
Yusuke paralyzed.
"Arumi," he began carefully, trying not to scare her. "Shunzen... he's dead. You know that. We all know that."
"No!" she cried out sharply. "He's not dead! He's here! He's always been here! You just don't want to see him!"
Yusuke took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
"Okay," he said at last, trying to speak as gently as possible. "If he's here, where is he? Show me."
Arumi froze, her eyes darting around the room, searching for something. Then she pointed to the empty chair across from her.
"There he is," she whispered. "He sits here. He always sits here."
When Shunzen was alive, this was indeed his place at the table. Yusuke crept to where his wife pointed and sat down, proving that Shunzen was not there.
"See? No one."
"You don't understand, Yu," Arumi whispered, her eyes filling with tears. However, with them came some clarity. "Shunzen is here. He's always been here. He's never left us. I actually saw him! He was sitting at the table, he was smiling at me! He was talking to me!"
He knew Arumi was grieving over Shunzen's death, but he never thought her grief would go this far. She was losing touch with reality. He stood up and took one step toward her.
"Arumi..." he began again, but she retreated, trembling.
"Don't come any closer! You can't take him from me!"
"There's no one to take. He's dead!" Yusuke stated firmly, not intending to indulge her nonsense.
Arumi wavered, her eyes looking at him one last time with betrayal before she fell to her knees and let the tears flow freely down her cheeks. Yusuke wasn't the best at consoling, and besides, he was in shock himself. He stood there listening to his wife wail in grief. She cried for about ten minutes, then spent the same amount of time coming to her senses, remaining sitting on the floor. During all this time, none of them said anything.
"Where's Michizou?" Yusuke tried again when it seemed like Arumi wouldn't lose her temper again.
"How should I know?" she answered indifferently.
"He doesn't go to school," Yusuke shared, trying to draw her attention to the conversation.
"Mmm," she replied in the same tone.
It was no use. Yusuke turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Arumi in a catatonic stupor. Instead, he focused on searching the house for Michizou. After running through every room twice, he concluded that his son was not there. Yusuke went out into the yard and looked around, but still to no avail.
Where did the rascal go? Hasn't he come yet?
Yusuke sighed heavily, walked over to the chair and moved it so that it was directly opposite the front door. After settling himself in it, he began to wait.
After several hours of waiting, when the night had completely enveloped the house, the door quietly opened. Michizou appeared on the threshold, his face was tired, his clothes were slightly dirty, and there were small scratches on the sleeves and legs of his school uniform, as if he had been making his way home through thorny bushes. He clearly did not expect to see his father sitting right in front of the entrance and froze like a thief caught red-handed.
"Where have you been?"
Michizou lowered his head, avoiding his father's gaze. His fingers nervously fiddled with the hem of his shirt.
"I... was hanging out," he muttered, but his voice was so quiet that Yusuke barely heard.
"Hanging out?" Yusuke asked, his eyes narrowing. "You haven't been to school for weeks and you call that "hanging out"? Do you even realize what you're doing? Have you ever stopped to think about how your antics are affecting me and your mother?"
Michizou cowered under the pressure of his father's anger, but still found the strength to answer:
"I just... didn't want to go there."
Yusuke stood up from his chair, his figure looming over the boy.
"You didn't want to?" His voice grew even louder. "What kind of pathetic excuse is that? You think you can just do whatever you want? This won't do, Michizou! You'll never get anywhere at this rate. You have to be responsible!"
"Just like you?" Michizou snapped back unexpectedly, looking up at his father with a still frightened but also angry look. "You're never home yourself! Why should I try if you and mom will hate me anyway?"
"With such an ungrateful attitude, it's no wonder you don't have our respect!" Yusuke shouted sharply, stepping closer. "Your laziness and disobedience irritates me! Do you think that you can just complain about how poor and unhappy you are and do nothing to fix it? No, it doesn't work like that. If you want to be needed so much, then you have to earn that right!"
The boy cowered, clenched his fists, but did not say a word.
"You have to understand that I'm saying this for your own good," Yusuke continued in the same tone. "The world won't pity you, Michizou. You have to be prepared for that. Knowledge is one way. No one needs fools. So stop with your shitty behavior and go to school. Take an example from your older brother - just do as you're told."
Michizou gritted his teeth, nodded, and ran off to his room without even listening to the end of Yusuke's tirade. In the kitchen Arumi snorted contemptuously, as if mocking her husband's attempts to raise their son.
In the following days, Yusuke had to set aside his morning hours to personally make sure his son came to school. He accompanied Michizou all the way to the classroom, ignoring the humiliated glances that Michizou occasionally cast at him.
Yusuke noticed that the Michizou's class teacher looked at him suspiciously at first, but soon it was replaced by a polite smile. That was better. Yusuke hated it when outsiders thought that there was something wrong with his family or him. They were doing well.
*****
Michizou continued to attend school regularly, but Yusuke soon noticed that even the increased attention and time spent together that Michizou had complained about so much were not helping. Teachers found fault with the boy's inattention. His grades still left much to be desired, and his classmates avoided him as if he were a leper.
All of this added up to Yusuke's conviction that he was right: Michizou was a hopeless case. Yusuke still felt that he had to try to make something worthwhile out of his failure, even if it seemed impossible. Despite his disappointment, he couldn't just abandon his son when he finally began to at least try to show himself in a better light. Despite his poor performance at school, Michizou became more obedient at home, taking Yusuke's words about responsibility to heart. There were no more tantrums or stubbornness. Only unquestioning obedience to his father's orders. With peace established between father and son, the house became quiet and calm. Even Arumi stopped going crazy, preferring to read books all day.
However, like all good things, the calm does not last long. If anything, this quiet was just the calm before the storm.
One day, Yusuke forgot his wallet but noticed it halfway to the headquarters. He struggled with his conscience for a while, but still decided to turn around and go back. Fortunately, today he left early and there was time to make a detour home and not be late for the meeting.
When Yusuke pulled up to the house, he didn't expect anything out of the ordinary. However, as soon as he stepped through the door, he heard voices coming from the kitchen. It was still very early. He didn't think any of his family members would be awake. Especially since today was Michizou's day off from school. It would be expected of a child to catch up on sleep after a week of being forced to wake up to an alarm clock, but here he was apparently already up and discussing something with his mother.
What was even more unexpected: If between Yusuke and Michizou the relationship was more or less neutral, then between Michizou and Arumi, there was none at all. The general couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen his wife and son in the same room, let alone talk to them. Although Yusuke couldn't judge completely. Perhaps he was wrong about their distance. Maybe they got along just fine when he wasn't in sight.
Of course, he became curious about what these two completely different people could talk about.
Trying to be as quiet and unnoticeable as possible, Yusuke leaned against the wall and found a vantage point that would allow him to see everything going on in the kitchen, but would still be hidden. He began eavesdropping, keeping an eye on his watch. He figured he had about ten minutes before he had to leave for work if he didn't want to be late.
The scene before him was unimaginable: Arumi was sitting on a chair with Michizou on her lap. The mother was gently squeezing her son's hand, almost cradling it like a baby. There was a relaxed smile on her face. It seemed that she had finally found peace in the presence of the child she had been running away from his entire short life. Michizou, on the other hand, sat with his eyes wide open in disbelief. He was constantly twitching, as if he didn't know how to act in this situation. His anxiety and nervousness could be felt from a distance, but he was in no hurry to break away from his mother's embrace, continuing to listen to her muttering.
Yusuke strained his ears, trying to catch every word she said. He could barely make out the broken sentences:
"I missed you," she said and kissed Michizou on the top of his head, which embarrassed the boy even more.
Michizou didn't answer, but that didn't stop Arumi:
"Your father doesn't believe me when I say you're here. But I know you'll never leave me."
"Mom...I've always been here," Michizou whispered hoarsely, holding back tears. Arumi freed one hand to begin stroking his hair. Michizou sobbed.
"Hush, I know, dear. No one will take you away from me," she assured. "My baby, my Shunzen..."
Yusuke sighed heavily. Of course. What else did he expect? Arumi had stopped showing signs of being unwell lately, so he assumed it was a one-off. Yusuke clenched his jaw, feeling anger rising in his chest. He had been wrong. He had allowed himself to believe that Arumi had become herself again. But instead she was continuing to live in an illusion, replacing one son with another. This was unacceptable. This was improperly.
He took a step forward, intending to intervene, but stopped when he heard Michizou's voice. He looked at his son's face and saw that the shoots of hope that had blossomed with his mother's touching words and loving actions had withered away as the same realization flashed through his little head. What struck Yusuke was that Michizou didn't look the least bit surprised.
"Mom, I'm not Shunzen. I'm Michizou. Your son," he explained, frustratedly, trying to reach the woman who had given birth to him.
Arumi, as if by a click, stopped smiling and froze.
"Michizou...?" she asked again in a lifeless voice.
The boy swallowed hard, fear gripping his body in anticipation. Arumi began to squeeze his wrist in a death grip. Michizou began to wince in pain and discomfort.
"Mo.."
"Don't you dare!" Arumi suddenly interrupted him with a scream that shook the walls. "Don't you dare call me that!"
Michizou couldn't take it anymore. Tears started pouring out of his eyes, his shoulders shook with sobs. He tried to break free, but his efforts were futile - he was too weak compared to a grown woman, overcome with anger. His helpless attempts only irritated Arumi more.
"I...s-stop! It hurts. Please, stop! Mom!" he begged.
Suddenly there was a loud bang. It happened so quickly that Yusuke, who was standing nearby, did not even immediately understand what had happened. Only a glance at Michizou, who was now lying on the floor, hastily crawling back, helped him understand what had happened. On the boy's cheek there was a palm print so bright that it seemed almost bleeding. Arumi jumped up from her chair, her movements were sharp, almost predatory. She went towards the frightened child, who tried to crawl even further away, but the space of the kitchen left him no chance to escape.
"I told you not to call me that!" she screamed. "You have no right to do that, you bastard! You should never have been born. I hate you! Hate!"
"I'm sorry!" Michizou shouted over her in his panic. "I'm sorry! But... but I can't be like him. I just can't!"
He had nowhere else to go. Behind him was a kitchen set. One of the doors was painfully pressing against the boy's neck, but that was the least of his problems. And in front of him was only Arumi. In place of a loving mother there was now a merciless, bloodthirsty monster. Michizou's whole body was shaking non-stop, his breathing was ragged and intermittent, but he did not dare look away, afraid to aggravate the situation.
"You can't?" She laughed viciously, no longer screaming, but with a deep contempt that permeated every cell of the air around them. "Yes, and you never will. You're not worth a single hair of his. You're nothing. A simple mistake!"
Her eyes, filled with fury, glittered in the dim room like a cornered animal. She grabbed the nearest dish, which turned out to be a plate, and threw it with all her might at Michizou. But she missed. The plate shattered against the wall, just a few centimeters from the boy. Michizou covered his head with his hands, shaking with fear as the fragile ceramic shattered into dozens of tiny pieces.
"Why did it have to be him and not you?" Arumi continued. She grabbed another plate and threw it with even more force. "Why should you live when he died?"
Arumi's rage grew like a wildfire, devouring the last of her common sense. Yusuke looked at the woman he didn't recognize, listened to her so easily voicing his own innermost thoughts, but he couldn't move, continuing to watch their family's swan song.
He only came out of his stupor when he noticed that having finished with the plates and cups, Arumi had moved on to more dangerous objects. She grabbed a knife from the stand and was clutching it tightly with both hands. A chill ran down Yusuke's spine when she raised her feverish eyes to the curled-up Michizou, who was completely oblivious to the approaching threat.
"I'll bring Shunzen back," Arumi switched to a quick whisper again. "It'll be an exchange. Yes, that's right. An exchange. He'll come back... I just have to..."
Arumi raised her knife, preparing to strike.
His wife was going to kill her son.
Yusuke jumped out of his hiding place, rushing at the mad woman. Arumi refused to give up the knife, fighting Yusuke with all her strength, which was more than he expected. Her hands were gripping the hilt so tightly that her fingers turned white, giving her an even more vengeful look.
"Let me go! You don't understand... I have to... Shunzen..!"
Suddenly, Arumi bit into Yusuke's palm and he instinctively pulled his hand back. That moment - just that moment! - was enough time for her to throw the knife at their child. Yusuke turned sharply to face Michizou, and the scream died on his lips. Somehow Arumi's aim was perfect this time.
However, the knife did not reach its target. It hung in the air for a few seconds, just half a meter from the boy's face. Then, as if exhausted, the knife fell to the floor with a soft ringing sound. The sound attracted the attention of Michizou, who finally looked up from his cocoon, full of confusion and terror.
Arumi went limp in her husband's arms, realizing that her plan had failed. Yusuke didn't know what to do with her and the danger she posed to herself and others. His thoughts raced, searching for a way out. His mind began calculating his future prospects. Their family life was in tatters, that much was obvious.
But as if by way of apology, a new door had now opened for him, which he had thought had been closed forever after Shunzen's death.
He looked from the knife to Michizou and back again. His son... His son had just proven himself as an ability user. Ferrokinesis. It was incredible. Yusuke felt like a sculptor who had suddenly discovered that all this time he had been working not with ordinary cobblestones, but with the purest marble. In an instant, the boy had become the key to something greater. He had finally become a little useful.
*****
After taking Arumi to another room, cleaning up the shards and bandaging Michizou's wounds, he spoke to his son again and found out that this was not the first time Arumi had been cruel. It turned out that she regularly staged similar performances behind Yusuke's back, with Michizou playing the main role of Shunzen. She would inevitably lose her temper when she found something she didn't like, leaving her son with bruises hidden under the long sleeves of shirts and sweaters, which the boy never told his father or anyone else about.
In order to deal with all the consequences, Yusuke had to take a long vacation, during which he tried to minimize contact between Arumi and Michizou with his presence. He could no longer trust Arumi. It was unpleasant, painful, but Yusuke did not dare to send her out of the house either. The mere thought that someone would find out about her unstable mental state filled him with horror. He had worked so hard for so many years for his impeccable reputation - he could not allow anyone to find out about such a black spot as his wife in the hospital. But he did not have the strength or time to keep an eye on her. He did not turn to specialists, equipping a room with all the amenities for Arumi, and occupied his home office. The only people who, besides him and Michizou, knew about Arumi's condition were her sister and father, whom Yusuke invited to the house, hoping that their presence would somehow have a positive effect on her. Not that it really helped.
Sabi took over all the care of Arumi, treating her sister like a living doll, constantly fluttering around the house and speaking her thoughts out loud, as if she hoped that Arumi would one day respond. If anything, his wife became more insensitive to everything that was happening around her, trying to isolate herself from Sabi who was pestering her.
Tachihara-san, Arumi's father, only checked on his eldest daughter once. Seeing her grave condition with his own eyes, Tachihara-san did not blame Yusuke directly, but the estrangement between them was forever ingrained. Yusuke had not gotten along well with his father-in-law before, but their previous interactions had always been based on mutual respect between two people who were too similar in character.
In truth, the old man's presence had nothing to do with Arumi.
Abilities themselves are not common. Not even all people knew of their existence. Hereditary abilities are even more unheard of. There are only a few recorded cases of identical abilities manifesting in a parent and child, siblings, and so on. Half of them consist of cases of artificially transferring an ability to a relative. In this regard, the Tachihara are different from the rest. There is a legend in the family that once upon a time, the Tachihara clan was especially in demand in the samurai profession. They say this is because as soon as Tachihara stepped onto the battlefield, all the weapons went crazy, as if gaining a will of their own. If it were not for living proof to the contrary, this would have remained a fairy tale. Over time, the blood mixed, with each generation fewer and fewer espers were born, each time weaker and weaker. Before Shunzen, the last metal manipulator in the family was Tachihara-san's great-grandfather who could at most accurately determine the alloy's composition by eye, but could no longer change or influence it in any way. That made Shunzen's loss all the more painful.
Yusuke couldn't afford to lose another heir with this ability. He had to do everything he could to develop it in Michizou. He hoped that if he could guide his son in the right direction, he could reach the heights that Shunzen had never reached. This became his new goal, his new meaning in life. Michizou became his personal project, a tool to prove to the world that their family name still mattered.
This is where Tachihara-san should help. The man knew by heart all the notes that his ancestors had made to help future espers cope with mastering ferrokinesis. Having heard that his second grandson also had the ability, Tachihara-san became somewhat more cheerful, leaving behind his hostility towards Yusuke. Together they developed a plan to improve Michizou's skills, anticipating their future glory. In many ways, they relied on the manual once compiled for Shunzen, but adjusted it to Michizou, who had shown himself later than his brother.
However, the boy showed his incompetence here too. Michizou couldn't repeat the same trick he had done with stopping the knife. Yusuke and Tachihara-san stood over him for hours with various pieces of iron, trying to force the ability to activate again, but nothing happened. Not even a small shift.
Tachihara-san had reverted to his stern, unimpressive nature, as if he had decided that Yusuke was a liar. He himself was beginning to wonder if he had made it all up. Even Sabi had begun to show interest in their studies, casually sending comments about their progress. She disguised it as innocent curiosity, but Yusuke knew that Sabi was a hypocrite through and through who never missed an opportunity to hurt her brother-in-law's pride.
Yusuke wasn't going to give in to their mocking disdain. He convinced himself that Michizou's ability wasn't just a random outburst, but a real power that could be developed. He began to look for other ways to influence his son. If the usual methods weren't working, then he had to try something new, something more radical.
He decided that if Michizou could not activate the ability on his own, then it would have to be induced artificially. Any method was used, from meditation to physical exercise. But all attempts failed. Michizou remained as useless as before. Then Yusuke decided that the only way to make Michizou reveal himself was to create conditions in which he would be forced to use his ability. Yusuke began to stress his son by giving him unexpected tests. He threw metal objects at the boy without warning, hoping that he would stop them like the very first time. He even created situations where Michizou found himself on the brink of danger, hoping that the instinct for self-preservation would force him to activate the ability. But nothing helped.
The disappointment was building up and was palpably in the air. No one was trying to hide the tension anymore, the center of which was the boy. Michizou himself continued to try to please his family, but they met with looks that contained nothing but obvious mistrust and hidden fatigue, as if everyone had long ago resigned themselves to the fact that nothing would change.
The day X coincided with Sabi and Tachihara-san leaving theit home. They had done everything they could for Yusuke and were now going to return to their lives with a sense of fulfillment of their family duty. On this occasion, even Arumi forced herself to get out of bed and give her sister and father a proper send-off. The four of them stood near the front door exchanging last pleasantries before saying goodbye for an indefinite period. It was a relief for everyone: Yusuke was freed from his father-in-law's condemnation, Arumi was freed from the hated mother hen, Sabi was freed from the forced image of a caring sister, Tachihara-san was freed from having to deal with the daughter and her husband who had disgraced him. It was as if all parties could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
At that moment, the door of the house swung open and Michizou appeared on the threshold. He was smiling broadly, out of breath, as if he had been running all this way on purpose. He had a book in his right hand, and his left was clenched into a fist. He opened his palm impatiently and raised it up, practically pushing it into the faces of his relatives.
"I did it!" he exclaimed, practically vibrating with joy. "There, there, look!"
When Michizou stopped jumping around like a crazy bunny who had drunk too many energy drinks, they were able to take a closer look at what was in his hand. In the center of the boy's palm was an unidentified object, similar to a deformed ball, about five centimeters in diameter.
"What is it?" Yusuke asked, voicing the question that was on everyone's minds.
"I did it with my ability! From a page!" the boy announced proudly. His eyes sparkled, expecting praise.
But no one shared his enthusiasm. Next to Yusuke, Tachihara-san sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his glasses.
"After all our training, this is the pinnacle of what you could achieve?" he asked sternly.
"Seriously? This is all you can do?" Sabi echoed, not even hiding the patronizing mockery in her voice.
"That's a disgusting use of your powers," Yusuke interjected, agreeing. "If you can't do anything useful, then it's better to do nothing at all."
With each word, it became more and more obvious how Michizou's shoulders were shrinking in on themselves, his smile was fading, and his eyes were filled with shame. Yusuke, Sabi, and Tachihara-san continued to hurl criticism regardless to what their merciless words were doing to the child in front of them. Amidst the cacophony, only Arumi noticed how the Michizou's hands dropped in shock, dropping the book and, for lack of a better word, the ball.
"Who gave you permission to take this book?" she hissed almost like a cat without looking up from the cover.
Yusuke followed her gaze and understood what his wife meant. The book was a collection of poems that belonged to Shunzen. It was in his room, locked with the rest of his things. None of the three of them went in there longer than necessary and certainly did not dare touch things that had lost their rightful owner. It had accompanied him into the war, lived through everything he had lived through with him, and returned home when he could not.
Yusuke hated this book. It was expensive, custom-made as a birthday present. The poems were arranged by topic, and each new section was separated by a thin gilded metal sheet with the content engraved on it. It was made for aesthetics, nothing more. But the collection was missing several pages indicating that Shunzen was using them to fool around in the same way Michizou had just done. It was a vulgar and cheap trick at its core, but unlike the younger, the older one was creating something beautiful so Yusuke could forgive him for this ridiculous, wasteful behavior.
He still can't forget how Shunzen created masterpieces from them, turning them into birds and animals that came to life in his deft, elegant hands and then froze in metallic eternity. It was his art, his magic, his way of leaving a mark.
Seeing Michizou destroy a page of which there were only a few left for a pathetic excuse for progress made Yusuke's nostrils flare like an angry bull. Seeing such a memorabilia now lying around in the yard like trash infuriated Yusuke even more. It didn't help that it was spring, the time of year when the snow had melted and left puddles in its wake. The pages were soaked in dirty water in the corners. It would be difficult to save them.
He was ready to forgive Michizou for his rudeness, for his absences, for his lies, for his childishness, for every wasted hour. But this...
Something clicked in his head. It was surprising that Yusuke's trigger was some stupid book.
Yusuke stepped forward, his face twisted in anger. He grabbed Michizou's shoulder, causing the boy to look up at him in fear.
"Do you even realize what you did? How dare you ruin it for your pointless demonstration?"
"I didn't mean to!" Michizou defended himself, frightened. "It happened by accident. I was reading and then it just appeared!"
"You couldn't even do anything decent!" the general continued. "Shunzen would never do that. He would use his ability wisely. And you... You..!"
He could no longer, would not, pretend that he was not sickened by the creature who was supposed to be his son. He hated his face, his hair, his eyes, his movements, his voice. He hated his light breathing, his heartbeat, the invisible pulsation of his blood, his name, - everything that made him alive. It was all wrong. So close, so similar, and yet not the same.
He vaguely realized that his words and actions reminded him of Arumi on that fateful morning. It was strange that she hadn't lost her temper first. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see how furious Arumi was, but for the first time, she was holding herself back.
"But I'm not Shunzen!" Michizou shouted, as if he too was playing along with the repeating scenario.
The pain, despair, and misunderstanding in the boy's eyes softened the pain in Yusuke's chest with a burning satisfaction. Now he understood Arumi, her courage to say everything that weighed on her soul, even at the cost of someone else's misery. Yusuke wanted to see more of this sweet suffering. Much more. Wanted to see the boy understand what he was doing to his family, to his father. Wanted him to answer the question of why he continued to bring them grief. To understand how terrible he was. To understand how pathetic his existence was.
And indulging his inner monster, Yusuke finished off the boy with the most contemptuous tone he could muster:
"But why? Why was it him and not you? Why?"
Silence reigned. No one called him out for his cruelty. Everyone in their own way shared Yusuke's feelings, understood him. Four pairs of eyes came to some kind of synchronicity, incinerating the boy with a vicious intensity. In that moment, they found a suitable target to throw out their pent-up frustration.
Michizou stood rooted to the spot, his breathing ragged, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He no longer tried to justify himself. His face froze in an expression of collapse, defeat, and then absolute emptiness, as if all emotions had been burned out from within. He no longer cried, screamed or protested. He simply looked at his father, his mother, his grandfather, and his aunt, who continued to stand in the doorway and look down on him like dirt under their feet. He understood, too.
***
Years later, lying on a snow-white sheet, Yusuke will understand that this was the moment when there was one more broken human soul in the world. Comparing the weak-willed boy with dead eyes and the wild, sharp-tongued youth he grew into, he admits that perhaps he did something wrong.
Notes:
Next chapter: the final.
Other notes:
1) This chapter wasn't supposed to be here at all. My original ending was kind of rushed, so I'm rewriting it now. Actually, I don't really like how this chapter turned out either. This written is just to show how Tachihara's personality was formed.
2) Originally the scenes from this chapter were supposed to be part of another fic dedicated exclusively to my backstory of Tachihara up until his early days in the Mafia. But I don't know if I'll ever write such a fic, so I figured it would be better to at least implement part of the idea.
3) I've always wondered how Shunzen made Yosano's hairpin if his ability involves manipulating metal. Not turning other substances into metal. Any opinions on this?
Chapter 10: Silent bonds that never die
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Life in the Armed Detective Agency's infirmary turned out to be more eventful than Hayashi had imagined, largely thanks to the owner of the place, with whom he was stuck within the same walls.
Several times he had heard Yosano at work using her ability on her colleagues to the accompaniment of their screams and sobs, as well as the growl of a chainsaw or the whistle of a cleaver cutting through the air. The choice of instrument depended on her mood, although Hayashi had noticed that she preferred the latter most of the time. All this was accompanied by her excited laughter, reminiscent of Death's glee in pursuit of another sinner.
The victims came out of the operating room on shaky legs, with eyes that had seen true horror but showered with gratitude and always completely healthy if you don't count the temporary tremors from the shock they had experienced. Yosano offered another treatment in response, but no one agreed, hastily running away from her. Then, disappointed by the refusal, she would catch the eye of Hayashi, her only regular patient, inquire about his well-being try to engage him in conversation, not even noticing the unwashed drops of someone else's blood that stuck to her neck like a fancy ruby necklace.
Yusuke didn't fall for the image of a caring doctor, no matter how much Yosano tried to put herself in a better light by speaking to him in a more polite tone than to the others. The only thing that kept him from harshly attacking her was the knowledge that, sadly, he was indebted to her and the Agency. Angel read Hayashi's open condemnation, snorted cheerfully, as if to tell him that she didn't particularly want to interact with him any longer than necessary and left him alone, thereby preserving both of their sanity from unnecessary quarrels.
Besides Yosano, Hayashi was visited by other detectives. They came less frequently, so Yusuke did not have time to quarrel with them as he had with her. Among them were the two young men who had participated in his rescue, Nakajima and Tanizaki. They had come to apologize for not being able to protect him. They were serious about preventing a similar situation from happening again.
"We will take revenge on the Mafia for you, Hayashi-san," Tanizaki promised.
"Without a doubt," Nakajima agreed no less passionately.
Hayashi wanted to wince at their bravado, but he remained outwardly unperturbed. The defeat at the hands of Michizou had dealt a significant blow to the pride of the entire agency. He didn't envy his son, who had made new enemies, but he was amused by the fact that the boys didn't seem to realize they were swearing vengeance in front of the parent of the object of their hatred. Either they hadn't realized that their client and the bandage-nosed mafioso were more than just namesakes, or Michizou hadn't previously distinguished himself enough to be remembered by his last name. Hayashi later overheard Naomi Tanizaki complaining about a certain Tachibana who dared to injure her brother, making the second version more likely.
After the apologies, Tanizaki and Nakajima only came to say hello and inquire about his condition. Sometimes they were accompanied by two teenagers who looked even younger than all the other visitors. It seemed that this was not a detective agency, but some kind of part-time daycare.
He was also visited by a blond man named Kunikida. After Yosano, he was the second most frequent visitor and Hayashi noticed that the young man was very responsible, which gave him some points of approval in the eyes of the general, especially when he doubted the competence of the rest of the Agency's motley members.
Kunikida mainly questioned Hayashi about the kidnapping, the time he spent in Mafia captivity. He also acted as a liaison between him and the police, regularly updating him on the progress of the case. In gratitude, Hayashi tried to give as detailed answers as possible, but thoughts of his son caused a vague sense of guilt in him, which is why some details were left unsaid.
Which was just ridiculous.
He was the victim, not the litthe brat! He, Hayashi Yusuke, who fell into the worst-case scenario and paid for their meeting with a bullet to the head. What could be worse than that? The correct answer is: nothing! He has every right to curse Michizou!
...But his awakened conscience immediately threw him an image of a child with an overly empty expression on his face, living his life in the likeness of the ideal that Hayashi had once embodied and tried to embody again in another person. The thought of what his son could have become if Yusuke had never put pressure on him did not leave him. Perhaps he would have grown up to be a completely different person - happier, more self-confident and free. Law-abiding at least.
He began to wonder constantly: which of all these images he had seen was the real Michizou? Was it the Child mimicking his father's every word and action as if he had personally lit up the night sky with stars? Or was it the Teenager desperately trying to prove himself to the world and in the process burning away the echoes of his childhood innocence? Or was it the a Nineteen year old young man, a year older than his brother could ever be, who had cast aside all previous versions of himself becoming someone Yusuke would never understand?
He thought about it for hours, filling the vacuum of doing nothing. But these thoughts did not lead to anything worthwhile. On the contrary, Hayashi only inevitably stumbled upon a new dilemma: was Shunzen, his ideal eldest son, whom he considered a model, really himself? Or was he just a talented actor, hiding his inner suffering in an attempt to satisfy his father's insatiable ambitions, like the younger one? The spiral of reasoning began anew. The boundary between Michizou and Shunzen was erased. Hayashi could no longer see where one began and the other ended, or whether there had ever been a difference at all. Alas! Ouroboros did not even notice how it swallowed itself up without a trace!
All these thoughts made his head spin, but despite his regret, Hayashi knew that the past could not be returned. He was too stubborn to wallow in it, so he was going to continue living, to try to justify the right to a second chance, as Yosano insisted.
He began to think about what to do next. Before the kidnapping, his home had felt like a cage. His colleagues at work considered him an oddball who should have retired long ago. As if agreeing with them, his age was making itself felt more and more – the crunching of his knees, the constant pain in his back and the aching joints in bad weather were becoming a daily reality. Now, on top of all this, he had acquired the status of a dead man and he would have to come to terms with it. Perhaps it would be best to lie low and try to restore relations with his family. Find a way to atone for his mistakes. And since his son was unavailable, Hayashi would switch to his ex-wife.
He also owed her a lot. Hayashi had never fought for her properly. He had done nothing at all to help Arumi regain a connection to reality that could have served as a support instead of escaping into a fantasy world. In the end, a ship without an anchor would wander until it crashed on rocks or was caught in a storm. Perhaps he had made her health worse by his inaction. He didn't know if Arumi would ever forgive him for it, or even remember, but it was worth trying. If not for himself, then for their shared past.
The idea stuck in his head and after another interrogation session with Kunikida, he asked the detective to help him arrange a meeting with his family, to which he agreed. They already knew he was alive. That was comforting.
Just a few hours later, Sabi and Arumi, disguised with completely inconspicuous sunglasses and wide-brimmed hats, entered the building, accompanied by a police officer in civilian clothes. Sabi brought Arumi to the infirmary and sat her down in the guest chair. His wife did not react to him, remaining silent as always. Hayashi asked Sabi to leave them alone, and when she reluctantly left, he began to speak.
He recalled the old days when everything was fine between them: their meeting, their dates, their wedding, and the birth of their children. At the mention of Shunzen, she raised her head, looking around but not seeing what she wanted, she returned to her former state of a weak-willed puppet. Considering that she did not mistake him for their dead son, this could be called progress. Hayashi continued speaking, not expecting immediate results. He knew that the process of restoring her mental health would require a lot of patience from him. He would try to cope with it. Now he had plenty of time.
A few hours later, Sabi came to take Arumi home. They couldn't visit him often for fear of giving the Port Mafia cause to suspect something was wrong. They probably wouldn't be able to meet like this again until the next stage of the investigation. Before the two women left, he called out to his sister-in-law decisively:
"Sabi, when this is over, I want to take Arumi with me. We'll leave Yokohama for some remote place or even another country, change our names, and won't bother you anymore."
"Are you sure?" she asked quietly, but with a hidden hope in the depths of her eyes.
He could see that Arumi's presence was a burden to her, but Sabi still pretended to be happy to help. That was just the way she was always seeking public approval. It was a trait of hers that disgusted him.
He never noticed that he was the same. Until today.
Lately, he began to notice too many things.
"Of course," he assured.
Sabi didn't argue, just nodded one last time before pulling the brim of her hat even lower over her eyes and grabbing her sister by the elbow, leaving the Agency.
***
As Jouno-san had predicted, panic soon broke out within the Port Mafia. Rumors that there was no spy spread quickly throughout the organization, leaving a wave of confusion and rage in its wake. The executives scrambled to comprehend how they could have fallen into such a trap, their anger spreading further up the chain of command, forcing the lower members of the Mafia to work without rest.
Despite his outward calm, Mori was clearly displeased. He broke the alliance with the foreign organization that had spearheaded this deception, raiding all of its branches in Yokohama and brutally dealing with the traitors. The streets were filled with their blood as a warning to others, somewhat reminiscent of the previous Boss's madness.
This ending was expected. The foreigners were idiots for not learning the one and only rule that matters in their field: you can't mess around with the Port Mafia. The consequences will never be long in coming.
Tachihara watched all this from the sidelines. He was glad that the truth had finally come out and his own position in the Mafia had become more solid, but he knew that this was only the beginning. He still had a lot to do to finally regain the trust of his colleagues.
He felt no remorse for Hayashi and didn't even try to feign suffering because he wasn't sure his father was truly dead enough to feel genuine grief. His indifference to the fact that he had effectively killed his own father for no good reason made it impossible for anyone to feel sorry for him or consider him a martyr. Everything that had happened, all his actions, were justified as a necessary sacrifice for the well-being of the Port Mafia. That suited him just fine.
But surprisingly, the Boss apologized to him.
In his own way, of course.
One day, when he was simply walking down the hallway, Elise appeared in front of him. The girl stared at him, causing him to stop. Then, without saying a word, she handed him a white envelope. Tachihara hesitantly took it and opened it, ignoring the burning gaze of her blue eyes.
There were several sheets of paper inside. The first one had just one sentence on it in a child's crooked handwriting. It was written in purple crayon. With glitter. That explained Elise's sullenness. She kept this crayons as her personal treasure, using them only in emergencies. The inscription read:
"Sorry I forced you kill your father :( "
Below that was a supposedly crying Tachihara, looking like a circle with orange sticks poking through it. Somehow the image had an ominous aura about it. Maybe this thing is also a sketch of his future voodoo doll.
"Um...thank you," Tachihara said. "That's very...cute."
Elise nodded, but didn't soften. She seemed to pout even more. Whatever.
Next came a letter, this time written by Mori himself. He also used glitter crayon, but this time in red. Each word was written casually but elegantly:
"Tachihara-kun,
I'll be frank: your conversation with Hayashi-san was bugged. In order to compensate for the inconvenience caused by this misunderstanding, I would like to give you the opportunity to fulfill your father's last will. In the enclosed envelope, you will find a letter addressed to the Presedent of the Armed Detective Agency, Fukuzawa Yukichi-dono, detailing your situation. I am granting you a day off so that you can visit the Agency and inquire about the whereabouts of the body. All funeral expenses will be covered by the Port Mafia.
Continue to serve the organization with the same dedication and diligence that you have shown so far.
Sincerely,
Mori Ogai
P.S. Elise-chan's gift is as adorable as always, isn't it? This time I'll let you keep the drawing."
Tachihara blinked in disbelief, unsure whether he was more shocked by the frankness or the fact that he was apologizing.
Then his brain began to process what he had read, paying attention to important details.
Were they bugged? It looks like it.
But how and when? He didn't know.
He began to feverishly recall the entire conversation with his father. It seemed that much had been said that was personal and humiliating, but nothing that compromised his position in the Mafia. That was good.
But what was Hayashi's last will? He couldn't remember anything for the life of him. His mind raced in search of an answer, but all that remained in his memory were fragments of phrases that didn't fit together into a coherent picture. He turned to Elise for help, who raised her eyebrows in surprise at his question, silently expressing her low opinion of his mental abilities:
"When I die, try to bury me and not just dump me in a trash can," the girl quoted.
"Oh, right."
This explained the rest of the contents of the letter.
"If you don't want to do this, I'll tell Rintarou and he'll think of something else," she suggested when he said nothing else.
Tachihara resisted the urge to agree.
He had a chance to finally find out if Hayashi was alive or not. To get closure. To close all the gestalts. But it seemed too generous an offer. What if there was some catch to this idea? Or was this a new sophisticated test?
He was tired of these mind games that everyone, including himself, was trying to drag him into. Life was so much simpler when orders made sense. He no longer knew what was right or wrong.
Come what may.
If Hayashi was truly dead, then he would fulfill his last request as Boss expected. But if not... Well, then that would be a problem for tomorrow's Tachihara. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
"No need. I'll deal with it."
Hearing his confirmation, Elise disappeared as if she had never been there.
Tachihara, in his paranoia, quickly examined the letter addressed to Fukuzawa to make sure there was no hidden message in it instructing him to arrest Michizou (it was also written in glitter crayon. Elise would definitely get revenge on him for that someday). The letter contained only facts, light accusations, and veiled threats bordering on flirtatious. After finishing reading, Tachihara sealed the letter back into the envelope and carefully put Elise's cursed drawing and the message from Mori into his jacket pocket.
The Boss's letter hadn't specified when exactly Tachihara was to collect his father's body, but it was clearly meant to be done immediately. As ill luck would have it, he was free now. Black Lizard had a mission tomorrow, but all he needed to prepare was to be present. Circumstances had decided for him.
He walked out into the street with measured steps and along the road, heading towards a certain building. Tachihara felt the weight of the envelope in his pocket becoming more noticeable. It seemed to him that this piece of paper was weighing down on him more than any weapon he had ever carried. He tried to distract himself by concentrating on the surrounding landscape, but thoughts of his upcoming visit to the Agency did not leave him.
It was too surreal.
He was really going to do it. Willingly-compulsorily enter the Angel of Death's lair and come face to face with not only her, but also the maybe-alive-maybe-dead Hayashi.
Now, in the fresh air, Tachihara was sure: this was indeed a punishment. Mori had had enough of him, and now he was being sent to the Agency for execution. Without a call, without a guarantee of safety. Only with a piece of paper covered in crayon. He would be lucky if he wasn't shot the moment he stepped through the door.
Just to stall for time, he ordered coffee at the cafe on the ground floor of the building where the Agency was located. He seriously considered bribing the detectives with pastries for a second, but quickly dismissed the stupid idea. No way, he's not going to spend money on the stomachs of his enemies! He was behaving ridiculously. The coffee, no matter how divine it tasted, did not make things any easier. On the contrary, it made things worse. Michizou was too full of energy now. His nerves were on edge, giving insistent commands to move, move, move. His fingers began to tap the counter, unconsciously beating out a quick rhythm. His eyes began to glance more and more often at the exit.
He still had a chance to escape. In fact, this time the Boss had given him a choice, not an order. He could just go back and lie about how, yes, Hayashi was dead, that he had already been buried, and the whole incident could be forgotten. It was a very tempting thought. But he didn't want to live in regret anymore with the constant "what ifs" stuck in his head like gum in his hair.
He took a final sip and set down his empty cup with such pomposity as if he had just decided the fate of the world with that action. He paid the barista's bill, a white-haired man who ignored the strange customer, too used to dealing with unusual individuals. Tachihara absorbed that image of imperturbability and tried to replicate it on his face. He nodded to the man and headed straight upstairs. Finding the right office, Tachihara knocked and without waiting for an answer, opened the door to the Armed Detective Agency.
"Yo," Tachihara greeted in a relaxed manner, putting his hands in his pants pockets.
All heads turned towards him, instantly stopping all activity. He saw some civilian girls working for the agency start whispering anxiously in the corner. They clearly wanted to escape, but they did not dare move, fearing the unpredictable actions of the Port Mafia member.
Besides them, the only people in the room, by his bad fortune, were Kunikida and Tanizaki. They tensed up at the sight of Tachihara. Their hostility filled the room.
Before Tachihara could blink, he found himself face down on the floor, pinned by Kunikida, who had twisted his arm behind his back, holding him in an iron grip like a trained fighting dog biting into its prey.
"What are you doing here?" the blond asked, squeezing Michizo's hand tighter.
Damn, he's strong. At this rate, even his reinforced body won't be able to withstand the load, which will lead to microcracks or even a full-fledged fracture.
"Calm down, I come in peace," Tachihara squeezed out, trying not to hiss from the pain, but failing miserably.
Kunikida pressed his knee harder into Tachihara's back. Damn bastard with too long and pointy limbs.
"You? In peace?" Tanizaki asked him with disdain. "The Port Mafia only knows how to kill."
"Tanizaki, it's not the time," Kunikida scolded him. "Although he's right. I'll say it again: what are you doing here? And no jokes. One wrong word and I'll leave you without an arm."
"Come on, I wouldn't just come here without a reason!" Tahichara wheezed, feeling his lungs find it harder and harder to get the required volume of air.
His belly full of coffee wasn't helping. He could already taste the acrid taste of stomach acid on his tongue. If Kunikida didn't get off of him in the next five seconds, Tachihara was going to leave them a nasty present on the floor.
"What's going on here?" a new voice intervened enthusiastically.
Tachihara raised his chin with difficulty. Their fight had attracted attention. Michizou saw more detectives peering into the reception area. Among them were Atsushi and Kyouka, as well as Ranpo, the main threat and support of the entire agency. While the first two simply stuck their heads out of curiosity, Ranpo stood proudly at his full short height in front of Tachihara, who was prostrated before him. His glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose, looking the immobilized mafioso up and down.
"Kunikida, let him go," Ranpo ordered.
"But..." Atsushi began to protest, but was stopped by Ranpo's hand, who made a "silence" gesture in his direction.
Kunikida reluctantly loosened his grip, letting go of Tachihara. He stood up, rubbing his arm to restore circulation. Silence fell over the room, all eyes on Ranpo.
"Y'all so fucking tense," Tachihara muttered.
Kunikida gave him an unimpressed look. Tachihara stared back.
"Are you really sure, Ranpo-san?" Kunikida asked disapprovingly.
"Yes," Ranpo nodded. "He's not a threat. At least not right now."
Tachihara's anxiety involuntarily eased when his fears were not confirmed. He had expected a more painful reception from the Agency after all. It was to be expected that the Mafia and the Hunting Dogs standards would not work for these Puritans.
"You better give me what you brought before I change my mind," Ranpo responded cheerfully, having already guessed the purpose of his arrival.
"Okay, okay," Tachihara said, taking an envelope out of his pocket. "I have a letter from my boss to yours. I'm just a courier, nothing more."
"Yeah," Ranpo easily snatched it from Tachihara's hands and immediately tore the envelope open with one movement, not caring about its safety.
"Hey!" Tachihara was indignant. "This is for Fukuzawa!"
"For you, Director Fukuzawa!" Kunikida was indignant with righteous anger.
"He's not here right now," Ranpo answered at the same time without looking up from his reading. "Hmm, so that's how it is. Well, that's what I thought. Boring."
"What's there?" Tanizaki asked.
"Nothing important," the brilliant detective waved it off.
Nothing fucking important. Just the lowdown on Tachihara. Michizou didn't know whether to be offended or relieved that Ranpo didn't think much of it.
"This is correspondence between the leaders of the two most powerful organizations in Yokohama. It can't be unimportant," Kunikida insisted.
Tachihara silently disagreed with him. The Hunting Dogs were clearly stronger than ADA.
"Bah, Kunikida, don't be so serious!" Ranpo whined, "It's about Hayashi-san."
Everyone except Tachihara and Ranpo froze for a moment.
"What about him?" Atsushi asked cautiously.
"Yeah, what about him?" Tanizaki repeated, swallowing nervously.
These two need to learn to lie better. Kunikida slapped his forehead and groaned in frustration.
Tachihara was becoming increasingly convinced that his father was alive and well and somewhere in the building right now. Otherwise they wouldn't be acting so suspicious and guilty. He took a step forward, frowning and looking straight at Ranpo.
"Is Hayashi alive?" he asked, trying to remain calm, but his voice betrayed the tension.
Ranpo lazily looked up from the letter, his eyes opening behind the lenses of his glasses and flashing a dangerous gleam.
"I think you know the answer yourself, don't you?" he replied, throwing off his carelessness.
Tachihara suddenly felt like a wounded mouse in the paws of a cat. Ranpo guessed. Of course he guessed Tachihara's trick. Michizou wasn't very subtle, was he?
The question now is how much information Ranpo got from that single bullet and what he plans to do with it.
Ranpo looked Tachihara in the eye, making sure he had received his message, and then, as if nothing had happened, he returned to his previous playfulness. The other detectives didn't even notice the small confrontation, too busy trying to come up with an excuse.
"What nonsense? Of course Hayashi-san is dead! You killed him!" Kunikida tried to save the situation.
"Then I want to see the body."
"No way! As if we would indulge the mafioso!" Tanizaki exclaimed.
"What are you yelling about?" a female voice said, causing Tachihara to freeze.
Slowly, he turned his head and saw Yosano Akiko, the Angel of Death, the one responsible for Shunzen's death. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, one eyebrow raised, her gaze sliding over the people present with displeasure, clearly indignant at the noise they were making. When her eyes landed on Tachihara, recognition flashed through them, but it was not reflected on her face.
Тhis is not right.
She saw him as a regular mafioso, not the younger brother of the soldier she had killed. Sometimes he regretted that he dyed his hair to look less like Shunzen. Maybe if he had left it as it was, she would have realized who he was right away. He wanted to see her face twist with realization, to see that the time for retribution had come, that revenge was inevitable. But instead, he saw only her arrogant indifference.
His mouth opened to say something, but Ranpo was faster:
"Nothing! It's just that another visitor has come to see Hayashi-san!" he chirped with a smile.
"Ranpo-san, no!" several detectives groaned in unison.
"A visitor?" Yosano now looked confused. "Him?"
"Yes, him!"
"Isn't he the one who..."
"You're right! But I have everything under control, believe me," Ranpo interrupted her. "He won't hurt Hayashi-san. He'll just talk to him."
There was a brief telepathic communication between Ranpo and Yosano, which resulted in the woman sighing and waving her hand, giving Ranpo some kind of permission.
"Well...If you say so."
Ranpo nodded several times without hesitation, still smiling smugly. The detective spent some time convincing the others to let Tachihara see Hayashi without any trouble, which he successfully did. Tachihara made a note not to mess with him in the future. It seemed he had more power in the ADA than he seemed to have at first glance.
"So be it," Kunikida sighed, giving in. "We'll show you where he is. But keep in mind, if you try to do anything suspicious, we'll stop you. And hand over all your weapons!"
"Understood," Tachihara responded, carefully removing the hidden knives and pistols from his clothes and handing them over to Kyouka.
The girl watched his every move closely, leaving him no chance to cheat. She even took his apartment keys to his indignant cries, which were happily ignored.
After that, Michizou was led through the office to where Hayashi was. Their procession resembled a convoy, with Tachihara as a dangerous criminal: Ranpo and Kunikida walked in front of him and Tanizaki and Yosano behind. The atmosphere was tense, as if everyone expected him to try to escape or attack at any moment. Tachihara followed the detectives, trying to keep a respectful distance so as not to provoke them unnecessarily.
He definitely didn't think about the fact that Yosano was only a short walk away, but still remained out of reach.
As they approached the infirmary, Ranpo stopped everyone in front of the door and turned to face his colleagues.
"Leave us," he ordered and added when three mouths opened to protest, "No, no, no. No arguments! We've been through this before. Get out of here!"
They walked away disgruntled, leaving Tachihara and Ranpo alone. They stood there for a few more seconds, silently, making sure no one was left to eavesdrop. Ranpo looked up at Tachihara and became serious again.
"You know, they still don't understand."
"Don't understand what? If you want to say something, say it directly," Tachihara snapped.
Ranpo chuckled and raised his palms in a reassuring manner.
"I'm just curious why a person with such a useful power as yours pretends that it doesn't exist."
Tachihara clenched his teeth, his jaw tensing. There was no point in denying it.
"So what? Maybe I just don't want my achievements to be attributed solely to ability."
"Explain this to your Boss when he asks why you hid such important information."
Thoughts of the consequences of revealing another secret flashed through Tachihara's mind. If information about Midwinter Memento were to be revealed, his cover would be completely blown. After all, his ability was perfect for espionage, and no amount of excuses would help, especially considering that Mori was no fool and Michizou was already walking on the edge.
"You wouldn't dare," Tachihara hissed.
"Do you think so?"
Ranpo was clearly smug, and for good reason: he was in complete control of this conversation. The little son of a bitch knew too much, and now he was going to use it against Tachihara. Michizou leaned back against the wall, furiously considering his options. This was why Fukuchi had always warned him to avoid Ranpo. Damn Super Deduction.
"What do you want from me?" he asked finally.
"Is it too much to ask to give up revenge?"
He wasn't surprised anymore. Knowing Tachihara's ability to easily track down Shunzen and his past, linking them both to the Angel of Death. But how could Ranpo even think of such a request, knowing all this? Regardless of whether it was blackmail or not, Tachihara wasn't going to give up on his plans for many years. It was the thirst for revenge that gave him the strength to continue what he had started. He couldn't lose this support either, especially now that his orders had failed him.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tachihara asked sharply, narrowing his eyes. "Do you seriously think I can just forget everything she did?"
"No. The only thing I ask is to think before you decide to do anything you have planned. She didn't come out of that war unscathed either, you know. Try to understand her," Ranpo asked surprisingly softly.
"No way," Tachihara immediately refused.
"Okay. It's your choice," the detective didn't press, "but know that Akiko is not alone. The Agency is on her side. I am on her side."
Ranpo spoke seriously, almost threateningly. Tachihara didn't think he could do that. It seemed Yosano was truly dear to the him. He nodded at the detective, acknowledging the weight of his words, but nothing more.
"Well, then, I suppose it's time to carry out your assignment!" Ranpo responded cheerfully again, but there was still a slight bitterness in his tone.
He energetically opened the door to the infirmary and unceremoniously pushed Tachihara inside:
"You have fifteen minutes before everyone gets too curious! Have fun there!"
The door closed, but through the gap below, Tachihara could see Ranpo's shadow, who had remained behind to watch him. It was hardly a distance that would have been considered sufficient to prevent eavesdropping, but the boundary between them gave the illusion of privacy.
Tachihara took a few steps, looking around the interior. During the raids on the Agency, they hadn't had time to study the enemy base in detail. Usually anything connected with hospitals didn't bring up any good associations, but this infirmary was quiet and peaceful. You could even say cozy. As if this place had its own character, its own history.
Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the back of the room, distracting Tachihara from his contemplation. He walked towards the source of the noise and froze when he saw his father sitting on the bed. Hayashi looked surprisingly well for a man who had recently survived a fatal wound.
"It's really you," Tachihara breathed out, not knowing what else to say.
"As you can see," Hayashi replied, adding with a soft laugh, "it looks like you weren't able to finish the job after all."
"I didn't come here to quarrel," Tachihara snapped, frowning. "I just wanted to make sure you were alive."
Hayashi looked at him strangely and asked:
"And what do you intend to do now that you know this?"
"I don't know. It would be easier if you died," Tachihara answered honestly, already starting to build a lie for Mori in his head. For this, he would have to cooperate with the detectives. Ugh.
Hayashi, meanwhile, wasn't particularly offended.
"Hmm, easier, you say? You were always so straightforward," Hayashi chuckled. "But you're right. If I died, it would save us both a lot of trouble. Sorry to disappoint you, son."
"You've always been a master of disappointment," Tachihara whispered. "Never mind, though."
Michizou sighed heavily, sitting down on the empty chair next to the bed. He pointedly did not look at his father, focusing on the opposite wall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ranpo's shadow move closer behind the door.
"You never asked what I'm going to do. I want to try to start over. To correct the mistakes," Hayashi suddenly told him.
"Sweet," Tachihara replied sarcastically. "You've accumulated a lot over the years."
"Yes, that's true. I did a lot of things wrong. Especially with you," Hayashi admitted too easily. "I wasn't a good father. But when I said I wanted to start over, I meant you too. If you give me a chance."
Tachihara stared at him in shock. Hayashi's face was filled with too many emotions, but the most prominent was honesty and hope. Michizou examined his father's head more carefully, looking for entry wounds. Perhaps Yosano hadn't completely straightened his brains out. There was no other way he could explain it. However, Hayashi was serious. He truly believed in this possibility.
"I'm afraid there's something you don't understand," Tachihara explained slowly, as if to a child. "I didn't come to mend fences with you. I finished with you a long time ago."
"Then why didn't you kill me right away?" Hayashi continued to insist, full of genuine bewilderment.
"Because you're not worth it," Michizou said crisply. "This is the last time we'll see each other, father."
"But, Michizou!" Hayashi protested. "I know the past can't be fixed, but we can still have a future!"
"What future? You don't have one!" Michizou got angry. "You're dead! Or do you want the Mafia to start hunting you again? Do you want to set me up and drag me down with you?"
"Oh, come on!" Hayashi waved it off. "We can just run away. No one will find us, I swear. We can start over, do it right this time! All together: me, you and your mother."
Tachihara looked at his father as if he was crazy.
"Are you serious? There is no "we"."
"But..."
"No! Listen to me carefully. I don't know what you've imagined, but don't you dare drag me into it. What made you think I'd want to leave everything for you and your pathetic game of house? Open your eyes to the truth: you were and remain a stranger. You and I have nothing in common except blood, and even that doesn't mean anything anymore."
Hayashi froze as if he had been struck. His face was contorted in pain, but he did not argue. He simply looked at Tachihara, trying to find some pity in his eyes, some hint that his words could be taken back.
"I...Okay. I understand," Hayashi said humbly.
Regret was etched firmly on his face, but Tachihara didn't hesitate. Perhaps his father would really change after all he had been through, but Michizou wasn't going to stick around to check. His trust had been betrayed by this man too many times.
"Then," Tachihara said, getting up from his chair and heading towards the exit. "I have nothing more to say to you."
"Stop!" Hayashi shouted desperately, also jumping up.
Tachihara stopped. He didn't want to hear any more, but deep down he knew that this was the last chance to speak, not just for him, but for both of them. He turned slowly, meeting his father's gaze.
"What else?" he asked irritably.
Hayashi froze as if gathering his thoughts. His gaze was full of emotions that he rarely showed.
"I... I want you to know that despite everything, I'm proud of you," he finally said. "You've become a strong, independent person. Even if I didn't always admit it, I always knew you were capable of more."
Tachihara felt something stir inside him. These words were something he had craved his entire life - who knew he only had to shoot his father to get what he wanted? - but now that he heard them, they seemed hollow and insincere. He didn't know how to respond, so he simply nodded.
"Thank you," he replied dispassionately. "But it doesn't change anything."
He took the last step towards the door and placed his hand on the doorknob.
"Take care of yourself," Hayashi added in a whisper.
Tachihara walked out without turning around.
Ranpo met him silently in the hallway. Yosano stood next to him, impatiently tapping her foot. It seemed that even the greatests could be wrong: clearly less than fifteen minutes had passed. When Tachihara left the door, she immediately looked into the infirmary, as if she was rushing to check if he had destroyed her work station.
They then took Tachihara to the conference room to come to some kind of compromise about his report to Mori, since it was not to their advantage to admit that Hayashi was still alive. They had to wait for Fukuzawa to return to make a common decision. It was a long time, but the man soon arrived and calmly began to conduct the meeting.
After brainstorming, the four of them came up with a cover story that Hayashi's body had been taken by relatives immediately after the shooting and then cremated, so Mori's offer to cover the funeral expenses was no longer relevant. To add credibility, Yosano suggested getting samples of Hayashi's biological material to fake the cremation in case Mori doubted Tachihara's words and wanted to DNA test the ashes. Michizou, like everyone else in the room for the sake of their own sanity, didn't ask how exactly she was going to collect the required number of samples. He hated her enough already. She started explaining the mechanics of the process anyway.
He wasn't listening to her speech, but he nodded, agreeing with the plan. He had to not screw up the report and keep their shared secret for the rest of his life. The detectives and police would handle the cremation, the death certificate, and other details that would make the lie as real as possible without actually killing Hayashi.
Now he was free.
Ranpo and Yosano following him to the door. It was getting on his nerves. The other members of the Agency were trying hard to look busy typing on their laptops, but Tachihara could see that they were looking at him curiously whenever he passed their desks. Most likely the contents of the letter, carelessly left for the bored detectives to see, had become public knowledge throughout the office while he and Ranpo were alone. Remarkably, Kyouka and his guns were not among the crowd. It was to be expected that the sanctimonious detectives would not return anything to him. At least his keys were at reception. He did not argue with them about it. He was too tired for another confrontation, and he was sick of staying here any longer than necessary. Today had already been too busy. He had dealt with two major problems at once.
But one still tormented his mind.
He turned around one last time to look at his guides. Ranpo had taken a step back so as not to interfere too much with the upcoming conversation, but he was still close, like a guard ready to intervene at any moment. As if he knew that Tachihara would not be able to resist and would give in to temptation. Tachihara had no time for him.
He kept his eyes on Yosano, trying to see what Ranpo saw in her that was so worthwhile. To understand her, as he had so colorfully put it. He turned off his head, trying to objectively evaluate what was in front of him.
There was a woman in front of him. Quite pretty. Sharp-eyed. Confident. No remorse on her face. No pity, even when she was talking about how to dismember a man and still leave him unharmed. A true professional in the terrifying sense of the word.
Tachihara couldn't figure out what he was supposed to see. Maybe Ranpo was wrong. Maybe he was just trying to distract him from his revenge, to protect his colleague. All Michizou saw was a monster. A monster that justified hers atrocities by calling them salvation. Was this what his brother saw every day before he gave up? A being above human pain, above suffering, above death?
"What?" Yosano asked sharply, unable to bear his intense gaze.
Her head tilted slightly to the side, her hair bouncing with the action. Her hairpin glinted in the light of the bulbs. A sharp-winged butterfly. Metal. Gold-plated. Tachihara's fingers began to tingle, as if wanting to run their pads along the delicate edges of the ornament. He could have reduced the insect to nothing with a single squeeze of his fist, destroying its beauty, but he didn't, too mesmerized by the painfully familiar whisper of metal that only he could hear.
Was this butterfly, a work of art, just a trophy, treacherously taken from the body of a jeweler who had wasted his talent in a rope noose? Or had she found it by chance among the belongings of a nameless soldier and kept it for herself, proudly displaying it as if to mock its previous owner? Did Yosano even think of Shunzen when she looked at herself in the mirror, or was his face forever lost in her memory among the faceless mass of her other victims? Tachihara wanted to scream at her, to demand answers. What right did she have to wear the little that Shunzen had managed to leave behind? How dare she desecrate his memory in such a brazen manner?
But the imprints of Midwinter Memento, someone else's Midwinter Memento, gently, almost protectively enveloping the metal structure, holding it in place in the shape of the pin. As if the creator had poured a piece of his soul into this trinket. As if he had intended it to be a symbol of reverence, not a curse. Michizou remembered how Shunzen used to make him figurines out of pages whenever he was upset as a child. They were his way of showing support and concern. What did that butterfly in the killer's hair mean? Did Tachihara really misunderstand something?
He glanced at Ranpo. The detective opened his green eyes, narrowing them at Tachihara expectantly. As if he was telling him that he was going in the right direction and that he just needed to continue his thought. Tachihara looked back at Yosano. With each second of his silence, she was becoming more suspicious, even contemptuous. He still didn't understand what kind of revelation Yosano's understanding was supposed to bring him, but he felt an incredibly strong desire to wipe that patronizing expression off her face and prove to Ranpo that he was wrong about her.
He had one way in mind. He was saving it for the last moment. If it didn't work now, he would finally be convinced that he was right.
As if in slow motion, he pulled out Shunzen's dog tag and lifted it by the chain so that the front was roughly level with Yosano's eyes. A sharp intake of breath escaped her lips as her brain registered what she was looking at and her lips trembled and parted.
"This is..."
She fell silent, unable to finish. Her hand instinctively pressed to her head, covering the butterfly as if checking to see if it was missing. She kept her eyes on the dog tag, still twirling in the air, covered in evidence of her cruelty. Guilt twisted her features and her eyes watered with longing and pain, making her look vulnerable, younger. It was a strange sight - to see her so broken. He had expected resistance, rage, an attempt to justify herself, but instead he saw a woman who clearly felt deep remorse.
She didn't forget.
He looked at her, she looked at him. Neither of them knew each other, but their shared grief had woven their past and future into a single line. Suddenly the monster seemed as human as he was, with a bleeding heart, memories that could not be erased, pain that could not be silenced.
His resolve wavered. It didn't feel right. This wasn't how the famous merciless Angel of Death should look. Not so young, not so broken. How old was she anyway, back then? (He knows. He's always known. Deep down he knows that eleven is too young, too cruel, for a war that adults have started.)
Is this what Ranpo wanted Tachihara to understand?
"You..." Yosano tried again, but Tachihara shook his head, interrupting her.
"Don't"
Tachihara put the dog tag back.
She lowered her head, accepting his decision. Even in this state, she remained strong, refusing to shed tears. Ranpo still put his arm around her shoulders, comforting her. The other detectives also jumped up from their chairs and walked towards them, worried expressions on their faces. As Ranpo said, she was not alone. This sight made him feel a certain amount of envy.
Revenge, like acid, still continued to eat away at his insides. Maybe he was just looking for an excuse for his selfishness. Maybe he was just trying to fill the void left by the loss of Shunzen. But he didn't want to forgive her. He didn't want to see her as a person. He had to continue to hate her. Even if he knew that eliminating Yosano wouldn't bring him back his brother, that revenge wouldn't bring him true satisfaction.
But how to get rid of this feeling?
Perhaps one day he would be able to let her go as he had let his father go. But not today. Not a word was spoken as he left, and the dog tag and the butterfly on the two bodies felt like heavy shackles left as a legacy by a dead man.
***
The next day, Tachihara sat in the armory, lazily sorting through the bullets and putting them in a box. A swarm of thoughts tore him away from reality, leaving him distracted. His thoughts were heavy and his mood was depressed. Gin, sitting nearby and cleaning her knives, noticed his state.
"You're too quiet today," she finally said without looking up from her work.
"Yeah, well, I'm just tired," he waved it off.
Gin frowned, but said nothing. She knew that if she continued to press, he would only withdraw further into himself. At that moment, Hirotsu entered the room. His stern gaze immediately fell on Tachihara, and the old man frowned.
"Tachihara," he said, coming closer, "You look like you haven't slept in days."
"It's okay, Gramps," Tachihara replied, trying to display his usual grin. "Just a lot of work."
"A lot of work?" Hirotsu asked, unimpressed, raising an eyebrow. "You were just on vacation. Don't lie to me."
Tachihara sighed and looked down.
"Okay," he conceded. "It's just... a lot of stuff. Nothing serious."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Hirotsu suggested softly.
Tachihara wanted to laugh at his tone. It felt like he was at a psychologist's office.
"It's complicated."
Hirotsu's face remained calm, but there was concern in his eyes.
"Is it because of your father?" he finally asked.
He didn't want to hear a word about Hayashi. Soon the police would finish setting up his witness protection program and he would disappear. And good riddance to that bastard. Tachihara hardly thought about him anymore. No, his worries had other reasons, much more personal ones.
He thought about Mori, who seemed to have calmed down about him, but also seemed to still suspect something. You could never be sure with this man. And not knowing was driving him crazy.
He thought about Yosano and the consequences of his waning hatred.
He thought about loyalty, about morality, about his identity, about orders, and so on and so forth. The list could continue ad infinitum.
No wonder he felt like shit.
"No, not because of my father," Tachihara finally answered, avoiding Hirotsu's gaze. "It's just a lot of things. Sometimes it feels like I don't know who I am anymore."
"You've always been confident in who you are. What's changed?"
Tachihara paused, collecting his thoughts. Hirotsu is wise. Maybe his advice would be useful. If not, at least he would be distracted.
"I thought I knew what I wanted," he began. "I thought my life had a purpose. But now... everything seems so pointless. I don't know what I want anymore. I don't know why I'm here."
The answer was not long in coming:
"It's normal. Each of us asks this question at least once. Even me."
Tachihara looked up at the old man.
"You?" he asked again, not hiding his surprise.
"Yes, I did," Hirotsu nodded, slightly offended by his disbelief. "There were times when I felt lost, too. When it seemed like everything I did was pointless. But you know what I realized?"
"What?"
"It's all nonsense. We're all searching for meaning, trying to figure out why we're here, but ultimately it all comes down to this: you decide what matters. If you feel like you've lost yourself, then you just need to find something new to hold on to."
"I don't know if I can find something like that," Tachihara muttered.
"You can," Hirotsu countered. "You already have it. You're just too dramatic to see it. You're alive, after all."
"Cool. Now my new meaning in life is not to die," Tachihara answered sarcastically.
"Considering your recklessness, it will be a miracle if you live to be thirty."
"Hey!" Tachihara was indignant.
"Fine. If you don't like it, at least take your job. If you keep whining, you'll get demoted, and I won't stop Gin from making you her errand boy."
Gin nodded, confirming that this was how he would end up under her command. Tachihara stuck his tongue out at her.
"It's not better at all. Not to fall under the command of a silent bastard? Seriously?"
"Why not? You like your current privileges as a commander, right? Then continue to do everything to maintain your position. Work for promotion."
"But that's stupid! The goal of life must be great, meaningful!"
He shouldn't have trusted the old man. He simply reduced all his suffering to a joke. Tachihara was even slightly disappointed.
"Today's youth do not value what they have at all," Hirotsu rolled his eyes. "Life is about small things, not about chasing after an ideal image. You are still young, Tachihara. First, try to live for yourself, and then think about a "great, meaningful goal."
Tachihara looked at Hirotsu, trying to process his words. Live for yourself? What did that even mean? It sounded simple, but it also seemed so out of reach. He was used to living for orders, for revenge. He did it of his own free will. No one forced him to choose this life. And what did it lead to?
He wasn't sure he could follow the old man's advice, but maybe it was worth a try. After all, he really was tired of constantly fighting - both with himself and with the world around him. Maybe he really should stop digging into himself so much. Just live. Just be.
"Okay, Grandpa," he finally said, trying to smile. "Maybe you're right."
Hirotsu nodded. His face remained calm, but a shadow of satisfaction flickered in his eyes.
"That's great," Hirotsu said, straightening up. "Now finish up with the ammo. We're moving out in an hour and I don't want you to be sluggish."
Tachihara continued his task, this time with more focus. The repetition had calmed his mind a little. He looked around at the box of bullets that smelled of gunpowder. His hands covered in calluses. The scratches on the walls. The cobwebs in the corner of the room that no one could reach. Gin, whose face was always hidden by a mask, making him wonder what her smile would look like. Hirotsu, who, despite all the grumbling, managed to become the most reliable person in his life. Warmth spread in his chest at the sight.
His double life, Mori, Yosano and other problems still hung over his head like a black cloud, but he wanted to allow himself to enjoy this moment, their little bubble created in the Port Mafia's armory. Find satisfaction in the little things, live for himself - even if it was just for the tiniest moment.
Notes:
And here we come to the end! Thank you all so much for your support. Every comment warms my little heart. I will eagerly await your feedback not only on the ending, but on the fanfic as a whole. Even criticism is welcome!
And of course, Happy Birthday, Tachihara!!! I would have posted the chapter earlier, but at the most crucial moment my VPN stopped working and all my edits were not saved so I had to do it all over again. In fact, it's already been a few hours since July 31st in my area. But I guess it's still somewhere around the 30th, so I'll count it as not being late.
Notes:
1) Tachibana. My personal pet peeve when it comes to my baby's name. I've seen him called that way too many times. I never mentioned it, but the fanfic takes place sometime after the Guild arc, but before the Cannibalism arc. So there is already peace between the organizations, but they haven't interacted much. I like to think that the only people who correctly remember the Michizou's last name during this period are Ranpo, Dazai, and Kyouka.
2) Mori's motives... I have no idea.
3) I don't believe in second chances when it comes to abusive parents. In case you were wondering, Tachihara never met him again, and Hayashi soon went back to being his old self - an asshole.
4) Can you believe that in the rough drafts, Yosano wasn't even in the finale? Instead, I was planning on focusing more on Tachihara and Hayashi's last conversation, where Tachihara would give his father Shunzen's dog tag with a new line for his saved life. And then I thought about it and decided, fuck Hayashi. This fic isn't about him.
But I also liked this image, even though it didn't fit well into the scene with Tachihara and Yosano.
5) They know the facts about Tachihara:
- Ability: Ranpo, Yosano (guesses)
- Revenge: Mori, Kouyou, Chuuya, Ranpo
- Espionage: ...6) I can't write endings :(
A few theories about what could have been:
- Yosano will dismember Hayashi several times for cremation. Under anesthesia..I think....
- Yosano will try to contact Tachihara and talk, but he will avoid her like the plague.
- Elise takes revenge by pouring a bucket of glitter on Tachihara.
- Tachihara will never find out about Mori and Shunzen.
- Most likely in this AU, the Page will no longer work on Tachihara from the very beginning, since he will realize himself and his new attachment to the Mafia earlier. He hasn't fully decided yet, but at least he doesn't deny it anymore.
If you have any questions or want to talk about Tachihara, bsd or just about anything, you can contact me on Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/post-reflection
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Ky0_chan on Chapter 1 Fri 18 Apr 2025 03:27PM UTC
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PostReflection on Chapter 1 Fri 18 Apr 2025 07:29PM UTC
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lonely_vault_boy on Chapter 1 Sat 19 Apr 2025 04:13AM UTC
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death_by_dreem_machine on Chapter 1 Mon 28 Apr 2025 04:08PM UTC
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lonely_vault_boy on Chapter 2 Mon 21 Apr 2025 01:15AM UTC
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Ky0_chan on Chapter 2 Mon 21 Apr 2025 05:20AM UTC
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lumilkumo on Chapter 2 Sat 17 May 2025 08:52AM UTC
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Ky0_chan on Chapter 3 Wed 23 Apr 2025 05:32PM UTC
Last Edited Wed 23 Apr 2025 05:42PM UTC
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Ky0_chan on Chapter 5 Tue 06 May 2025 06:02AM UTC
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Ky0_chan on Chapter 5 Tue 06 May 2025 12:00PM UTC
Last Edited Tue 06 May 2025 12:01PM UTC
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Chuu_chuu28 on Chapter 5 Thu 08 May 2025 02:52PM UTC
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Arealgoodname (Guest) on Chapter 5 Mon 25 Aug 2025 10:44PM UTC
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TurningRoundnRound on Chapter 6 Wed 14 May 2025 01:35AM UTC
Last Edited Wed 14 May 2025 01:36AM UTC
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