Work Text:
Tell Me About Your Day?
A song I had in mind as I wrote this.
( https://youtu.be/nL-uzN_NEvA )
Juuzou let out a harsh pant, slowly letting his back slide down the cold wall of his apartment. It was the dead of the night, certainly after midnight but he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to check for himself before they were upon him.
The Dragon General was no pushover, no one in the Tokyo Security Committee who had integrated from the CCG was as a matter of fact. Only the fresh faces, people from all stretches of life who joined after the destruction Kaneki had wrought, and the banner of unity he waved immediately after, were naive enough to not know better. Years of hunting ghouls and living long enough to bury everyone who weren’t so lucky was more than enough to keep the hardened veterans from slacking in their training regimens.
The six ghoul corpses that lay scattered across the ruins of his apartment were a testament to that fact. Even without his quinque, Juuzou’s Jason, and the veritable assortment he’d still gathered over the years safely locked away and ultimately useless to him, he’d held his own.
Juuzou couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony, looking down at the small throwing knife sticking out of his chest. Scorpion, a pitiful looking quinque compared to almost everything he’d seen. He’d whined and complained to Mr. Shinohara when he first received it, almost upset enough to act upon the urge when his mentor had calmly explained why he’d chosen it specifically for him.
Simple, elegant, and numerous. With 56 of them, he was truly a force to be reckoned. And while the technology to store and carry more than ever easily became more and more accessible, Juuzou had made it a habit to keep them nearby at all times as the years weathered on, eventually more so for sentimentality’s sake than any real need.
Until now, it seemed.
Taking a deep breath and then coughing up blood until the burning sensation in his lungs seceded to an almost dull throbbing, Juuzo’s paler than usual hand came up to caress the tip of the handle. He knew he could easily pull the blade out, quite possibly even patch himself together before he bled out. If it had been just an inch or two off in any direction, he’d already be doing so, in fact. Lodged into his aorta, he’d die a faster death if he messed with it, and no amount of sewing knowledge was going to change that.
He couldn’t help but snort in contempt. If the idiotic ghoul who had whipped it at him with his kagune had any semblance of skill, he’d have at least lodge it deep enough to completely cut off the bleeding until he could get some medical attention. The warm trickle of blood down the back of his head served to remind the dying man that he probably exacerbated things a bit more dealing with the three other ghouls. Backflips and being forcibly shoved through walls tended to do that.
“Guess I couldn’t blame you entirely, huh?” Juuzou asked nobody in particular, his gaze weakly casting over the room full of corpses. He didn’t bother questioning why him in the end. He’d done more than enough terrible things in his life to earn this fate, to Ghouls and people both. Maybe it was somebody with a vendetta against GOAT, the TSC, or just some old war hawk trying to spark another war and end the newfound era of peace between humans and ghouls.
Juuzou smiled to himself as he shook his head free of the stray thoughts. He wasn’t about to die here reminiscing about what could have been. Weakly, his hand reached into his pyjama pants, retrieving the simple little flip phone he never bothered replacing. Out of the handful of people in the world who even cared enough about him to want to reach him privately, there was only one person who he kept it on him at night for.
With a mere tap, he was speed dialing him, his heart still roaring in his ears, slowly but surely puttering out. It was late at night, with no warning. Naturally, Hanbee picked up before the third ring.
“Juuzou? Is everything alright?” His voice was tinged with drowsiness not quite entirely wiped away, though there wasn’t a trace of annoyance at being awoken. There never was. A teardrop dripped into the blood pooling at his feet as Juuzou tried not to think about how there never would be anymore.
“Yeah. Just couldn’t sleep. I wanted to hear your voice. Tell me about your day?” It was usually partly a lie. He’d called Hanbee countless times in the middle of a sleepless night, plagued by night terrors filled with the faces of colleagues and enemies alike. Though not as many, there were also plenty of nights where Hanbee had been there to reassure him that he wouldn’t wake up on the killing floors again in person, to assure him that he left that life behind and helped build a better future despite coming from such a sordid past.
“My day?” Juuzou could hear the smile on Hanbee’s face, considering they’d spent the day together.
“It was a rather pleasant day, all things considered. I woke up pleasantly enough.” Thoughts of a warm body besides him that never dripped blood over him filled Juuzou’s mind, it had taken years for the sensation to become almost normal to him. “I made myself a nice breakfast for myself and a friend.”
Juuzou couldn’t help the snort that escaped him. “Had a lady friend over, eh? I bet she was cute.”
“I’ve heard she fills out a dress nicely. Now, stop interrupting, you called me after all. After that, we enjoyed a pleasant drive to work, rather quiet but it’s a pleasant company. Then, a rather mundane day at work, though there were pockets of iridescent joy whenever I’d catch flashes of my friend trapezing about the office, honestly not working nearly hard as they should be.”
Juuzou closed his eyes as he leaned his head back, realizing that he felt faintly cold.
“How could they? I’m sure you make for a tempting distraction. Honestly, you should be ashamed of yourself, I have it on good authority they were all but obsessed with you. Barely a day went by without them looking forward to seeing you again, even if it was just to wave hi as they walked by the door to your office.”
Juuzou had never been great at expressing himself. Emotions were… difficult to express. He had always understood them well enough, even if he’d initially related pain to love. Finding it in himself to make himself vulnerable, admit it aloud to someone and potentially have them manipulate it against him like he’d so cruelly done in the past to others…
It was cathartic when he finally had, even if Hanbee had gone on to ruin the moment by crying.
Maybe he couldn’t be blamed entirely, Juuzou relented, snuffling and weakly fumbling his arm up to his face to try and wipe away some tears.
“Juuzou, what’s the matter?” Hanbee asked, voice serious and concerned.
Fuck, he’d heard him.
“Well, maybe I’m missing you a little more than usual is all right now. Honestly, I can’t tell you how much just hearing your voice right now is doing for me. How much you did for me, everything.” His voice was tiny and weak, but it was the best he could manage.
“I’ll be right ove- I’m getting another call. It’s the main office, I’ll pick you up and we’ll head righ-”
“I’m already on my way out,” Juuzou half lied. He wasn’t heading to the same place Hanbee would be, though who knew for sure? And really, he wasn’t lying, Hanbee just didn’t realize he was talking about the broader sense.
“Ah, I see then… Are you sure?”
It warmed his heart, knowing Hanbee knew him well enough to dare to question him. He would have never dared in the past. It came from a good place.
“Yeah, I’ll see you there. Go ahead and call them back.”
Juuzou didn’t want to end it on a lie.
“I love you.”
“I… I love you too. I’ll be quick, I promise.”
Juuzou never heard him, didn’t need to. He’d heard it plenty of times before, and he always knew in his heart, he just wanted to make sure Hanbee heard it one last time too. For the gentle giant that had shown a broken boy that there were people in the world who could never understand him entirely and still love him fully despite it.