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Ever since the day Haise visited Juuzou's apartment, things have been different between them. It's hard to say that things are more comfortable when Juuzou had already been happily rifling through Haise's pockets, but there's a level of understanding that had perhaps been more subtextual before.
At any rate, their respective difficulties with their bodies have been less of a taboo. Haise asks Juuzou regularly if he's been resting his leg, and Juuzou in return has some curious questions about whether Haise misses human food. Haise may not remember much about human life, but he tells Juuzou he does recall a fondness for hamburgers.
And then of course there's the other matter. Haise has no idea how to refer to it, even in his head. There seems to be no polite way around it, and if there is established etiquette, Haise is certainly unaware of it. He thinks about it when he does the dishes, when he gets ready for bed, when he tries to figure out Shirazu's spelling on his report sheets: is 'castration' too blunt a word? Is Juuzou prepubescent, or would 'nonpubescent' be more accurate? Haise has no idea.
Even so, talking is easier now; if not about that, then about everything else. They spend time in the CCG's hallway together and chat, like on one particular day where Juuzou has decided to sit in a windowsill and swing his legs.
"Careful with that," Haise says. "You've got knives in there, you know."
"Worrywart," says Juuzou amiably. "You're the only one who thinks about that kind of stuff."
"I'm sure Abara does too. He seems the worrying type," Haise speculates. Maybe Abara thinks he'd be insubordinate if he tried to get Juuzou to take care of himself. Maybe he doesn't want to give the impression that he thinks Juuzou is incapable. Or maybe he finds it as hard to talk about as Haise does the other matter.
"Hanbee's never said anything about it," Juuzou protests.
"Well, have you talked to him about either of your--losses?"
"Not really," Juuzou concedes. "He's my direct inferior. It would be weird."
"And yet it's not weird if you ask to see me naked," Haise responds, sarcastically but not unkindly.
"I didn't know that kind of thing was such a big deal for intact people," is Juuzou's excuse. It's impossible to tell, sometimes, whether he's joking when he says things like that. And yet--intact. Did Haise hear that correctly? Intact? Like a dog?
That's when it hits him: Haise's not the only one without a clue how to approach this. Juuzou is hardly the scholarly type. He would have had nowhere to learn any terms for this, if they exist. He must have been struggling with how to put the right words to it for most of his life, not to mention the emotional piece of how hard it must be to talk about at all.
The next meeting starts up shortly after, but that day, Haise drives to the library. If he can find anything that might help Juuzou put words to his struggles, then by god, he'll do it.
He does remember learning at some point (did he go to college?) about eunuchs, young men who were castrated to become courtesans upon the premise that they would be more trustworthy if they had no heirs to worry about. Maybe that's worth looking into.
Haise asks a librarian about the topic and receives a wary squint that suggests suspicion of him being a pervert. He makes up a lie about studying for a college paper and excuses himself hastily. He spends the next twenty minutes struggling with the library computer cataloguing system so that he doesn't have to talk to anyone else, scouring maps in hopes of a nearby library with a suitable book.
Haise manages to locate a book in a library in the next ward, bows and apologizes to the impatient queue that has formed to wait for his computer, and hurries off. The next library is not as big as the one Haise frequents, which does make it easier to locate the book.
He sits and reads several chapters right there in the aisle. Apparently in Rome, choir boys were often castrated to retain their prepubescent singing voices. Haise may not know Juuzou's full story, but something about it strikes a chord. He puts the book under his arm, intentionally uses the self-checkout, and leaves.
Haise finishes the book at the chateau. It says nothing about etiquette, which is unfortunate, but then he doesn't suppose the writers would have any way of knowing about modern-day instances of human castration, let alone how to be polite to those that have suffered it. But Juuzou might appreciate the book anyway, or at least the gesture.
By the time Haise finishes reading, it's too late at night to do much. Tomorrow he'll be using the ghoul masks to investigate with his squad, and won't be at headquarters at all. Haise supposes it's better that way; it hardly seems fair to ambush Juuzou with something so personal at work. He tucks in for a typical sleepless night, with the hope that thoughts of the quandary that is Juuzou Suzuya will keep at bay his usual nightly horrors.
After a puzzling investigation of Tokyo the next day, Haise drives to Juuzou's apartment. As traffic crawls forward, he occasionally throws glances at the book in the passenger's seat. The more it sits there, the more incriminating it begins to look. What, exactly, is Haise going to say when he gets there? As he considers it, his hands begin to nervously rub back and forth over the steering wheel. Would Juuzou want this book at all? How can Haise admit to putting so much thought toward something so private, likely painful, and probably none of his business anyway?
You're weak, Haise, a voice whispers. Haise glances in the rearview mirror and finds he has to turn off his kakugan. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and pulls into the parking garage near the CCG's accessible housing.
Haise walks slowly through the hall toward Juuzou's apartment, taking long, steadying breaths and clutching the book hard. He isn't really going through with this, is he? He doesn't raise his hand to knock, but bites his lip and stares at the door.
Juuzou will be so offended. He's not used to anyone acknowledging that they know at all, so what the hell is Haise doing here shoving the issue in his face? What happened to privacy, and discretion, and just leaving well enough alone?
Haise has just decided he's going to turn around without Juuzou ever knowing he was there and go back to the library and act like he never even considered this disgusting breach of trust--when Juuzou opens the door.
Juuzou doesn't give Haise the sunny greeting and customary pocket raid he's used to. He doesn't say anything at all, actually, just blinks in surprise.
"Hi," Haise says weakly. "I was just leaving."
Juuzou doesn't say 'without saying hi?' or 'then why did you come at all?' He just points to the book, making Haise's heart sink. "What's that?"
"A book," Haise says robotically.
Juuzou doesn't say 'what is it about?' He says, "For me?"
Haise's been caught red-handed. He may as well own up to it. He begins to explain what it is and how it was difficult to find in Japanese because human castration was mostly a Chinese and Western tradition, and how he gave it a look already and it might not be the best fit, and how he's not sure if some of the kanji are going to be too hard because it is an academic sort of book after all, and oh god, he's rambling.
You're weak.
Haise cuts himself off and still Juuzou doesn't say anything. He just stands there and looks completely blank. Haise had expected him to be either politely hurt or ecstatically grateful. He's starting to realize he cannot predict Juuzou at all.
Juuzou leans forward and takes the book out of Haise's hands--Haise is too emotionally frazzled to think to resist. Juuzou flips through a couple of pages and says, "I'm not that good at reading. I haven’t much since..."
He doesnt say whatever he's thinking. Haise isn't a mind reader and doesn't know anything more about Juuzou's past than this horrible detail which is already too much, but it does sound painful.
"Just forget it," Haise says, reaching out to take it back. "I can take it back to the library, it's no trouble, the drive isn't that far. We can just forget this ever--"
"No."
When Haise tries to take the book back, Juuzou pulls it close to his chest. Maybe Haise's imagining it, but the motion seems a bit--frantic? Haise really, really cannot predict him.
When Haise retracts his hand, Juuzou relaxes a little and frowns like he's thinking. Then he says, "I don’t know how libraries work or how long you get to have the book, but I think they would want it back before I finished it."
Haise's guts twist. The rejection stings, but of course that's not Juuzou's fault. It's Haise's fault for being invasive and offensive and giving Juuzou something he already suspected would be hard for him in many ways, and weak, Haise.
But then Juuzou looks up and holds the book back out. Haise has never seen Juuzou look anything even close to actually nervous, but somehow he does now. He bites his lip and doesn't meet Haise's gaze as he says, "Maybe you could read it to me?"
Haise blinks. It takes him a moment to process, but then he realizes how tensely Juuzou has been waiting for a response while Haise left him hanging. He nearly falls over himself to correct it. "Yeah--I mean--yes, of course. Of course I will. Whatever you want."
A smile shakily spreads across Juuzou's face, somehow much more genuine than Haise is used to. Haise smiles back, matching Juuzou in both uncertainty and warmth. Juuzou opens the door wider and gestures Haise in, and as Haise steps over the threshold, he thinks maybe unpredictability isn't such a bad thing.