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It occurred shortly after the Hunting Dogs had taken care of a serial bomber. The incident was high-stakes, as any mission was, but the Hunting Dogs handled it perfectly and with grace despite having a relatively new member. They were done right before the afternoon rush to top it off!
As the cavalry (some unnamed soldiers and officers) began to clean up the aftermath, Fukuchi, by chance, overheard a particularly interesting conversation.
“Do you know why Fukuchi-san is the commander of the Hunting Dogs?” an officer on the scene asked another.
“I dunno, I thought it was just because he’s the oldest?” answered one who was just leaning against the police car rather than working.
“... I heard the vice-commander was the oldest,” a third man shyly added. He had been eavesdropping much like Fukuchi was.
Thankfully, Teruko was not around to hear that, or there would be quite the mess to clean up. Instead, Fukuchi merely laughed—a boisterous laugh that caught the attention of all three men who looked up in alarm and scrambled to do their jobs.
He didn’t mind the rumors, his actions spoke for themselves. A flawless record, the most successful unit in the nation! Certainly, he was not the commander due to seniority. (Though why was that their first answer?!)
The Armed Detective Agency had Fukuzawa Yukichi, who was the department’s founder and incidentally had an ability that aided those under his direction. What made him the leader, though, was his determination to not let even a single man under his wing fall. He supported everyone under his leadership, even though he was quite the lone wolf when Fukuchi knew him. It was a very simplistic approach, but for years now it worked out.
The Port Mafia had Mori Ougai, who was almost the complete opposite of Fukuzawa. Willing to sacrifice one for the good of all, and an ability that could help him alone. He was certainly a leader in his own right, but Fukuchi couldn’t imagine giving up any member of the Hunting Dogs.
The Guild from America had Francis Scott Fitzgerald. All of the reports said that his ability was power in equal relation to the amount of personal wealth he had. An ability—and a man—like that were not strong enough to hold up a sinking ship, and eventually, the Guild disbanded. (Though, Fukuchi has heard rumors that the Guild was rebuilding. Perhaps he learned a lesson?)
And then, finally, the newest organization to disgrace Yokohama was The Rats in the House of the Dead. The reports on that organization were desperately in need of substance. Though, it seemed that the two sole members of the group were little more than tools to the leader. So, with their leader Fyodor Dostoevsky in jail, Fukuchi supposed there wasn’t going to be much left in terms of action for them.
Each leader had something that set them above the rest; respect was earned (or bought) one way or another. So what did Fukuchi have that put him in ranks with those men?
Well, to put it plainly, what made Fukuchi the commander of the Hunting Dogs was his ability.
Occasionally, Fukuchi will write letters. He would sit in his office beside a fresh bottle of sake and a blank page. They wouldn’t be anything magnificent, no, Fukuchi was far removed from the pen. But, he was curious. The address would always be the same, a small house in a remote town of no more than fifty people facing a river. It was the town where he grew up, where he learned of his ability, and where he was taken from to take part in the war efforts. Even though he has now dedicated himself to the people, he still liked to know what life was like back home. It was a lot simpler back in those days, where they would run around with wooden swords pretending to be samurai from another time…
“Come on, the tracks lead this way!”
Two small boys, similar in age, walked through the forest. One with a yellow scarf around his neck, the other trudging along in a full-of-himself manner. The confident one is leading the scarved boy through the forest.
“Are you sure? We have been walking for a while, Ouchi-kun,” the boy following Fukuchi asked.
“The footprints are small and dainty, just like Kin-chan’s feet. I know we’re on the right track this time,” Fukuchi paused in his steps, his eyebrow cocked. “Or, is the mighty Yukichi-kun getting tired?”
Fukuzawa rolled his eyes, “No. But you’ve been leading us in circles.”
“Hey! At least I’m doing something! No one else volunteered to help find her,” Fukuchi huffed, his pride damaged as he began to walk again. “The adults are all worried about the war. No one even noticed she was missing. She could have been kidnapped, or attacked by wolves.”
“Kin-chan is resilient. We will find her.”
For all of Fukuchi’s unwavering confidence, he didn’t know if he believed in his friend. Fukuchi frowned, “I hope so. You still have to confess!” He pointed at Fukuzawa dramatically, and his dear friend stared at him incredulously.
“Eh?”
“I know you’ve had a thing for Kin-chan for a while now, the whole town knows! After this, you have to properly confess to her, you have to! You’re going all this way to save her after all.”
“You are helping find her too,” Fukuzawa huffed, burying his reddening face into his scarf as he walked forward.
“It’s not the same!” Fukuchi insisted, relieved he could focus on something other than what could have happened to Kin.
After several more minutes of following footprints and running in circles, the two reached a clearing where a small girl in a kimono was sitting beside a root. Upon noticing her friends, she wiped the stray tears out of her eyes.
“Kin-chan, are you alright? We’ve been looking all over for you,” Fukuchi immediately launched into a question while Fukuzawa went to investigate her reddening foot.
“My foot hurts… I was trying to find clovers when I thought I heard someone following me. I ran and got lost…” Her eyes began to fill with more tears. “And then I tripped over this root, and it hurts to walk.”
Fukuchi nodded, listening intently before looking at his companion. “Yukichi-kun, you need to carry Kin-chan back since she can’t walk.”
Fukuzawa gave Fukuchi a look of ‘why me,’ but carefully began to lift Kin onto his back. The little girl wrapped her arms and uninjured leg around him, seemingly comfortable. Fukuzawa, on the other end, looked like a dying fish. With a trot benefitting a horse more than a man, Fukuchi began to trek back to the village, proud of their success.
Upon their arrival at the village, Kin’s parents were relieved to find her alive. Her foot had been sprained, and she was restrained to a bed for several weeks. During that time, Fukuchi and Fukuzawa kept Kin plenty of company, bringing her the lucky clovers she was set upon finding for the trio.
Of course, unbeknown to himself, their courageous actions that day caused them to be noticed by those outside the small village. Those who were planning on making armies to fight a great war. While the rumor had sparked interest in recruiting Fukuchi, it was his ability that caused him to be brought into the military at a young age.
Fukuzawa never did confess to Kin.
Normally, the task of cleaning was not one benefitting the Hunting Dogs, but there was nothing his unit couldn’t do! So, when they were low on workers, he volunteered the unit to help sort and clean the storage room in their headquarters. Of course, there was plenty of complaining to be held.
“I’m glad that our enhancements are being put to good use,” Jouno huffed as he lifted another box filled with useless documents. Well, he didn’t know if they were useless since he couldn’t read them, but he couldn’t be bothered to care either.
“It will take longer if you complain,” Tecchou pointed out, setting another box on top of Jouno’s and making him groan. Tecchou ignored him, focusing on clearing out and sorting through the other boxes.
In the corner of the room, Teruko sat on a desk, swinging her legs back and forth.
“We should have given this work to Tachihara-kun, it’s perfect for a newbie!” Her self-assigned role was that of an ‘overseer,’ though truly she just didn’t want to touch things that had been sitting in a room for god knows how long.
“That would be hazing,” Tecchou argued plainly.
“I’m sure Tachihara-kun would live,” Jouno piped in, dropping the boxes into a trashcan they brought in.
“Um… I’m right here,” Tachihara replied weakly. He was in charge of wiping everything that stayed down. He had been an official member of the Hunting Dogs for only a few weeks and was still getting adjusted to the changes.
“Duh, I can see that genius,” Teruko hissed. Though, almost instantly, her mood changed from that of a tiny, enraged demon to that of a whiny child. “The only one missing is the Commander. Where is heeeee?”
Jouno shook his head, he really couldn’t read Teruko. “He is—”
The door to the closet suddenly swung open, and Fukuchi walked in with a groan. The smell of alcohol was fresh on his breath. Jouno wrinkled his nose in disgust.
“Sorry for my lateness, how is the world’s best unit holding up?” Fukuchi asked as he stood in the doorway.
“Just fine, commander!” Teruko grinned, hopping off the desk and running up to his side. She hadn’t been doing anything up until now. “Though, Jouno-kun is being whiny like always.”
“Well, there’s nothing to be done about that, full speed ahead!” Fukuchi cheered. Teruko clapped and immediately took to a battle station right beside Tachihara. Having the vice commander breathing down his neck made Tachihara sweat.
At some point during the cleaning process, Tecchou approached Fukuchi with a box, holding it out to him.
“I think this belongs to you, commander.”
Upon peering into the box, Fukuchi found an assortment of medals awarded to him during his time in the military. The memories began to flow back to him.
He was young, and so was Fukuzawa, when they were selected to leave that small village. The story of the rescue and the training they had in the ways of the sword were enough to make the military heads decide to pick up two farm boys. Taken from the only life they ever knew, Fukuzawa and Fukuchi began to drift apart. Fukuzawa grew quieter and his swing deadlier, while Fukuchi attempted to keep up his good humor even though there were days when he couldn’t recognize his companions. Everyone reacts to war differently, so Fukuchi held no animosity towards Fukuzawa for drifting apart.
As fate would have it, Fukuzawa eventually left, setting aside his sword as if he were atoning. But Fukuchi couldn’t just leave, even though Fukuzawa had found his own life’s path before him. Life was surprising, and when he discovered Fukuzawa had taken in a little brat who claimed to be the world’s greatest detective, he almost feared that he wouldn’t recognize his friend.
Fukuchi had debts. To the ones he unwillingly left behind, the ones he was not yet strong enough to protect. He had to continue onwards, into uncertain territory. He could not just put down his sword when there were so many people in the world he could defend. Perhaps that was why… Yes, that was why he was approached with the idea of leading The Hunting Dog unit. That same zeal and enthusiasm towards protecting others helped him win the trust of even the farthest removed from humanity.
Each medal was a testament to his dedication. In the end, he couldn’t throw it away and instead moved the box to a corner in his office as a reminder of his ability.
“Are you kidding me?!”
Teruko’s voice boomed, warning of hellfire to come. The Hunting Dogs had just completed a mission. However, the apprehension of the terrorist lead to large-scale property damage. Thankfully, Tachihara and Fukuchi worked fast to get the innocent civilians out of harm's way, but it was still a blow to the Hunting Dogs’ shining reputation. Tecchou and Jouno had gotten distracted in their bickering, and by accident lead the corrupt ability user to shoot a firebolt at a nearby office building.
“It would have been fine, had Tecchou-san thought of using his brain for even a mere second,” Jouno huffed, crossing his arms defensively.
“You got hit into the building, I had to make sure you were okay,” Tecchou replied, voice lacking any annoyance that his companions showed.
“I’m a Hunting Dog, not some damn doll! Can you stop thinking of everyone as inferior to you for one second?” Jouno snarled, turning his fury onto Tecchou. Teruko, in turn, began to egg Jouno on further by yelling at him.
Tachihara began to shrink, wanting to get out of the situation as soon as he could. He jumped when he felt a pat on his shoulder from the commander. Looking up, he gave the man a puzzled look. The commander held the Hunting Dogs’ abilities in the highest regard, so he assumed that even he would be mad, but… the commander’s face was blank.
Fukuchi stood in between the three of them, his tall physique bringing about silence. He was normally a loud man, so to see him silent… the other Hunting Dogs began to back down. Even Teruko’s anger was quelled as she bit her lip.
“Sometimes, a well-oiled machine will break and fail to create what it was made to do. But, that doesn’t mean we throw it out in anger. No, instead we search for the problem—a missing screw, a clogged gear, whatever it may be—and once we find that problem we correct it. Today, we encountered a problem, but it’s nothing to moan and whine about. It is our duty to realize our mistakes and ensure that they don’t happen again, and I expect all of you to think about what you could have done better.”
The speech silenced any opposition. Tecchou was the first to react, bowing to Fukuchi respectfully. Jouno’s expression softened, and Teruko huffed out her last bout of steam before looking up at Fukuchi with shining admiration. Tachihara was too shocked for words, realizing that this right here was what the Hunting Dogs were about. It wasn’t just about strength or what their abilities could do.
And that is why Fukuchi was chosen to lead the Hunting Dogs. His ability to lead a team, to bring those with even the starkest differences together under one cause. His presence, while often aloof, would demand respect at the most opportune moment. His ability, the Lion Dance had nothing to do with it.
