Chapter Text
Trois stepped into the room and halted when he saw what was behind the glass.
A nondescript woman was sitting in the visitor’s chair. She kept scratching her wrists absentmindedly and fidgeting out of discomfort, as though she didn’t quite fit in her skin. When she saw Trois, the woman gave a weak smile.
“Ah, inmate 0303, was it? Please, sit down.”
Trois slid into the plastic prisoner’s chair. The fan club aren’t due until Tuesday, and Kiji is very strict about members trying to schedule visiting hours outside that designated time.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mademoiselle?” He shoots her his best smile, the one that reassures women that they look like the most beautiful creature in the world to him right now, and that there’s definitely nothing suspicious about what he’s doing with their clotheslines, no sir.
Strangely, the lady shifts and only looks more discombobulated at the gesture. Her weak smile wavers, becoming more of a rictus. “Mr…Three? I—”
“Just Trois is fine. Though I wouldn’t object to being called Nanba’s number one heartthrob by a sweet and beautiful lady such as yourself.” He’s fairly certain that this woman has never heard of him before, which would be slightly insulting if Trois wasn’t such a gentleman. “May I ask you what color bra you are wearing?”
The confusion in her eyes only grows, but the woman plows on regardless. “I—whi—I—I am here with a proposition for you!”
Trois raises his eyebrows. White is a suitable color for her; classy, yet functional in most respects. It’s not the first time someone’s proposed to him since he arrived in this prison, but the set up and woman seem too stilted for that scenario. “Consider me all ears, Miss. I am entirely at your service.”
The woman becomes a little more sure of herself at his reply. “How would you like to leave this prison?”
Just as she’s found her footing in this conversation, Trois has lost his. “…you wouldn’t happen to be pulling my leg, would you Mademoiselle?”
“I’m not pulling anything, Mr. Trois.” The lady leans forward, excitement plain on her face. “I’m offering to pay, in full, the necessary bail to get you out of this prison. To allow you to gain your freedom and a clean slate to reenter society. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Trois is a little taken aback. He didn’t even know that he had a bail which could be paid after he was convicted and entered prison. Wasn’t that only for those who had not yet been charged? And how would he reenter society with a clean slate? Even if he was released, he would still have a criminal record. A criminal record that prevents employers hiring him, prevents landlords housing him, prevents people associating with him.
Besides, he wasn’t going anywhere that Hani-kun couldn’t. They had an agreement after Monte Carlo.
Still, the freedom to go where he wished and do as he pleased, with no guards to regulate his timetable, to dictate what meals he would have every day, to forbid certain activities…the idea is tempting.
As though sensing his hesitance, the woman presses on. “If it’s your cellmate you’re worried about—0382, was it?—I’ll pay for him too. I-My…associate met with him earlier this week, and while he was too unsure to take this generous offer, I can assure you that if you take it, I will ensure that you both reap its benefits.”
Trois remembers Hani’s visit. He had left looking puzzled and came back hissing and spitting in outrage, snapping at everyone and everything that came close until Kiji revoked his computer privileges, and he remained in a foul mood for the rest of the evening and most of the day after. No matter how Trois cajoled, he couldn’t get Hani-kun to tell him what had happened and why it had upset him so much.
He feels a little touched if the reason was that a stranger had offered him a way out of Nanba without providing for Trois as well, though that didn’t really explain why Hani-kun kept so quiet when questioned.
Trois drums his fingers on the tabletop. “And if I accepted this offer, what would the lovely Mademoiselle require in return? It would be uncool of a gentleman to accept such a magnificent gift from a lady without properly repaying her in kind.”
The woman feigns disinterest, studying her nails, but her eagerness is clearly visible in her eyes to a degree that is almost fanatic. “There is just a teeny, tiny thing I need you to take care of first.”
She rummages in her purse and pulls out a small, plastic bag, setting it on the table in front of him. Inside is a white pill.
“You are aware of the gang leader Johnny Powers, prisoner 0307, correct?” She asks innocently.
Trois looks up. He doesn’t know where this is going, but he suspects he won’t like it. “He is one of my cell mates.”
“Excellent.” The woman taps a fingernail on the pill. “All you need to do is introduce this to his drink, and your freedom is assured. It’s tasteless and will dissolve completely in any liquid, leaving no trace behind once consumed.”
The prisoner removes his glasses, pulling out a soft cloth. After wiping the lenses, he puts them back on again. His voice has softened to a degree that it is barely audible “And what, exactly, will this do to him once consumed?”
The lady snorts, her expression turning dark with contempt. “It will be kinder to him than he was to his victims. I wonder, Mr. Trois, how much do you know about your cell mate’s crimes that sent him to this place? About the senseless killing he’s spread in his wake?”
The inmate remains silent.
“He’s a murderer.” The woman hisses, leaning forward with hate prominent and ugly in her eyes. “He has ruined countless lives for his own amusement— killing innocent, defenseless men, women and children to twist the arms of his enemies so he can get his way, with no regard for order or the will of those better than him. His youth only makes his actions more unnatural— if he is like this now, think of the havoc he will spread once he’s grown. You’ve doubtless noticed his sociopathic tendencies after living with him for so long, his contempt for authority and hatred for those better, nobler than him. He deserves a far worse fate than the quick, painless one this medicine will give him. You’re doing this world a service by helping to remove him from it.”
The former mechanic stares down at the pill, almost as though he is unable to tear his eyes away from it.
His mind considers it. Freedom. At the cost of a child’s life, sure, but as the young Miss pointed out, a child that had committed enough crimes to earn the title of gang leader and a place in the world’s most secure prison, and who he’d only known for two weeks besides.
Hani-kun had been restless back in the underground cells of Building 5. He wanted to leave this prison and regain all the benefits from freedom that Trois did. So desperately, in fact, that he was willing to leave Jyugo-kun and Uno-kun to the mercy of those controlled guards, and Trois had needed to pull out the big guns to get him back to his old self again. In addition, revealing Hani’s tools to Kiji during Uno-kun’s attempt to free their supervisor, however small a glimpse it may have been, effectively scuttled many of the duo’s ideas for escape in the long term.
The option to leave Nanba legally, without risking the punishment and the okama’s disappointment that would come with an escape attempt… was that worth Nana’s life?
He thinks of Hani’s sulking fit after his visit earlier in the week. How he’d snapped at Nana when he left the room for longer than five minutes, only to look vaguely guilty at the child’sf frightened bewilderment. He thinks of how Hani-kun kept subtly fidgeting with the wire that he’d given the boy, tugging on it occasionally to get his attention, then pretending nothing had happened when Nana looked up. He thinks of how Hani-kun had ruffled the boy’s hair the next day when he’d calmed down a little, causing Nana to squawk at the unexpected contact and Kiji to screech at the haystack the boy’s awful haircut had been left in.
He thinks of Kiji’s fondness for the boy, which manifested in lessons on makeup and fashion that the boy dutifully took in stride, almost as though he didn’t mind being turned into an okama himself. How he fusses over his looks, tutting about his hair and the mess he makes with ice cream, but always reassuring him that he has a place in the “beautiful” Cell 6. He remembers the careful way the supervisor watches the child when he thinks no one’s looking, a slightly haunted look that soon turns to relief as he watches his “beautiful” inmates interact.
He thinks of Nana.
He thinks of how the boy flinched every time Hani-kun or Kiji raise their voices, staying near to the relatively quiet mechanic until he grew used to the noisiness of their cell. How he dropped to the floor, cringing and covering his head, when Kazari-San advanced on him with a wrench after he’d made a mistake, as though he expected to be hurt for it.
He thinks of how Nana lit up after Trois replied to his hesitant French, relief and excitement mingling on his face at not causing offense and in gaining a conversation partner. How he learned to stop being such a doormat after a few conversations and even began to snark back at Hani’s jabs rather than just taking them.
He thinks of the naked admiration on the child’s face around Kiji, the way he went along with whatever the guard said like a child blindly trusting it’s parent, as though he never dreamed that harm could come to him from his supervisor. How he consumes the lessons of the education building like a starving man does food, always eager to learn more. He recalls Nana’s elation at being told he got a question correct on the quizzes or did something right in the mechanics department, and his surprise the first time he was rewarded for it.
He thinks of how refreshing it is to play card games with someone who has no knowledge of how the whole thing works, alternating between thrashing his cell mates when he wants to win and helping Nana score a few wins by teaming up against Hani.
He thinks of Nana’s careful and often confusing habit of sorting of tools and materials into piles so that he could instantly provide whatever was needed to whoever asked in the laboratory, as his more hands-on attempts to help often resulted in something breaking and Kazari-San yelling at him.
He thinks of being carefully woken up in the middle of the night for Nana to ask him if he could listen to his pulse. He remembers a small ear pressing gently against the thin skin on the underside of his wrist, barely feeling the faintest hint of wetness on the boy’s cheek. He thinks of the way Nana-chan sighs and the pent up tension in his figure melts away after hearing his heartbeats, tucking Trois’ arm carefully back into bed with a softly murmured “rien qu’un cauchemar. Merci, Trois-san” before creeping back into his own bunk.
“Well?” The woman asks, impatient.
Trois smiles beatifically at her.
“Kiji-San,” He calls, leaning back, “The lovely young lady here is trying to get me to sign something that says “marriage contract” at the top.”
“What?!”
The lady only just manages to shove the pill back into her purse as Kiji storms in. “You are no exception to what I told the others!! Meetings with Cell 6 are on the appointed days by the fanclub only! Any binding contracts that would impede the availability of any member of Cell 6 is strictly prohibited!! If you’re going to be this impertinent, then I’m afraid you’ll have to be banned from the premises for six months, do you hear me?!”
The woman shoots him a venomous glare. Trois smiles sweetly back. “Kiji-san, she also mentioned a male associate who tried something similar on Hani earlier, and was attempting to rope Nana into something age-inappropriate as well. That was why Hani-kun was in a snit this week.”
The woman’s glare turns inhumanly murderous, before she cowers under the force of the stare Kiji is pinning her with. “Is. that. so. Well, I suppose a restraining order against the both of you isn’t too hard to get. Now get out of here, unless you want to end up on the other side of this room.”
The woman looks like she wants to argue for a moment, before standing and running out the door.
Kiji sighs. “Jeez, it’s perverts like that who deserve to be in prison. Are you alright Trois? She didn’t do anything untoward to you?”
Trois beams up at his supervisor. “No, Kiji-San. She just made some insinuations about Nana-chan and then began trying to get me to sign the document. I think we might need to up his popularity a bit, some of the club may not be taking his addition well.”
Kiji squeezes his shoulder as he steers him out into the hallway and back to their cell. “You think so? I guess we’ll have to work on playing up his cuteness, get him more fans who can police the troublemakers. Well, thank you for letting me know that, no.3. It really puts me at ease, knowing I can rely on you and Hani-kun to look out for that kid.”
“Yes”. Trois said, feeling comfortable in his certainty. “You can.”