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When Takeomi was 5 he broke his parent’s TV. He’d been trying to squeeze the cheeks of a fluffy animated squirrel. Instead of squishing fluff, he shattered the glass in his tiny hands.
His father wasn’t angry. However, he looked oddly sad. Though he was never scolded, Takeomi couldn’t help feeling like he’d done something wrong.
He hadn’t realized that the feeling would last the rest of his life.
When Takeomi was 7 he broke every soccer ball he kicked. He wasn’t booted off the team. His coach wasn’t even mad.
“Your dad explained everything.”
He had said, ruffling Takeomi’s hair.
Takeomi wasn’t sure what there was to explain.
At 10 he was taught to control himself. His father told him he was special, but Takeomi still worried that he was just bad. No heroes on TV accidentally broke things or had to be taught how to be soft.
His father was his hero though, and his dad held his mother’s hand like fragile glass. She said it showed how much he loved her.
Takeomi wanted the whole world to know it was loved.
He learned how to be gentle.
At 13 he threw a real temper tantrum for the first time (he could never remember why). He punched his bedroom wall and watched in wide-eyed fear as it began to crumble. His father burst into the room when he heard the ominous creak the whole house made.
He’d supported the wall and ushered Takeomi outside.
Though their house was severely damaged by force, it was also saved by it. His mother explained to him the concept of a double-edged sword and Takeomi soaked the lesson into his very soul.
He resigned himself to being careful unless someone needed help.
Years of restraint came unravelled when he joined the CCG Academy in his late teens. He could bring down ghouls full-force and it would help people.
Though he no longer felt like he was being stuffed into too-small skin, he also didn’t feel liberated. Not like he did when he wrestled with his dad in the training rooms.
Liberated…
Why had he thought about being careful like it was a restraint?
He didn’t need to be liberated from his responsibility.
A hero’s work doesn’t make a hero happy.
He cracked the pavement once when he brought down a particularly large ghoul. An old lady stumbled over it later that week and filed a complaint with the CCG.
Takeomi had to be even more careful.
He had to improve.
The Quinx Squad was bizarre. Their wounds healed far faster than any human’s could. They were fast and dexterous. They were strong.
At least, that’s how they were discussed before the project came to fruitation.
The Quinx would need to be trained to be strong, whereas Takeomi had been trained to be w- gentle. They would need to grow into their new strength, which he supposed was similar. He felt a connection.
At first, they weren’t much.
Investigator Sasaki was always something, though. A prodigy. A half-ghoul, Arima’s student and ward, Akira’s junior, and…
A gentle man.
Takeomi wanted to get to know him. He wanted…
(A wrestling match with his father as a child where they broke his mother’s lamps)
(Hiking in the mountains while rocks cracked beneath his feet)
(Hugging his father as fiercely as he wished he could hug his crush at school)
(Shaking Amon Koutarou’s hand and realizing he was a strong man)
(Looking forward to working with him, only to find out he was dead)
He wanted Sasaki to train him (he wanted to talk to him. He wanted to be able to touch someone without worry, worry, worry in the back of his mind).
His wish was selfish. It made sense that he never got it, though Sasaki indulged him sometimes (with a soft touch and a monster on his back). He even got to meet the Quinx properly in their new forms.
They were so close to being what he needed.
Shirazu Ginshi played games with him and Saiko. He wrestled with him. He could stand up to a hand clapping onto his shoulder with enough force to crush bones.
Shirazu was a good man, almost a strong man, but he was gone.
Funny how things kept turning out like that.
Sasaki left and Takeomi accepted it with the same single-minded intensity he did most things. Strong men always left or died when they got too close to the horizon (too far from being human).
He wondered sometimes if his father would go too.
He wondered if he would.
Mutsuki left and Takeomi wondered if he’d overlooked some strength there. He’d asked Urie Kuki, but he’d scoffed in his face and muttered something about mind over matter.
He’d said Mutsuki had strength of character.
Mental resilience.
Mutsuki had also been taught to be careful, however not with the love Takeomi had been shown.
He wasn’t sure what to make of that.
Takeomi got his wish as the CCG panicked and everything went to hell. Saiko and Urie had become stronger than him.
With wild eyes, they charged into the field.
With desperation, they were no longer quite as careful (they had someone to reach, somewhere to be).
People finally looked at them like they were really dangerous.
Takeomi wanted to stand at their backs. He wanted to withstand the storm by their side. Not just doing his job…
He was happy to help.