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Tachihara knew what people called Jouno, and how they viewed is techniques.
Cold, cruel, and violent.
Yet he always thought the other was rather nice, and didn’t understand why they refused to see another side of the man. Jouno was also willing to save any person who had not committed a crime. That was why he ended up becoming friends with him.
The older Hunting Dog made him feel welcomed, and taught him how to get people to cooperate during investigations. Along with torture techniques to get people to talk quickly. Something he would need to know during his upcoming undercover infiltration mission.
As much as the other Hunting Dogs taught him, he found it easiest to understand Jouno’s way of doing things. Although he knew that much of it was bordering on being criminal, only avoiding that title by his place in the military. He assumed it was because he was also a former criminal, and they connected over a shared past.
So, when he began his infiltration, he acted like he had before he was picked up by the Hunting Dogs. Tachihara found it easy to revert to his early teen years, since it had only been two years since then. His act paid off when he started rising through the ranks.
At seventeen, he was one of the three commanders of the Black Lizard. His duties were usually taking out organizations by filling people with bullets. There was an itch to use his ability and make everything go much faster, but he knew that would be going against his orders.
Tachihara was very proud of his position in the mafia, often making Hirotsu laugh when he told him about the new mission they were to be working on. The enthusiasm was so unexpected, and almost out of place in their environment, that it became amusing. Gin even seemed to be masking their laughter at his chaotic attitude, which only made him try harder to make them laugh.
Which was why when it happened, he was so confused.
It was a rather normal day, Tachihara, now eighteen, was told to extract information from a prisoner. All the things he would need were already down in the basement, so he didn’t have to bring anything as he made his way down. The dinginess of the basement reminded him of the torture rooms the Hunting Dogs had. Jouno and Teruko were the ones in there most often, as they made even the strongest break.
Unlocking the door to the particular room he had to be in, he saw a man handcuffed to a chair. It was made of metal, so it couldn’t easily be broken, and his wrists and ankles were secured. Barely sparing the man a glance, he grabbed a small blade.
“Where did you put the supplies you stole?” he asked, hoping the man would just spill.
“I’m never gonna tell the likes of you!” the man spit out, holding onto his anger.
Sighing, Tachihara walked over, “Guess we have to do this the hard way.”
The blade lightly dragged over the man's arm, hardly even drawing blood. He was smiling, still so sure of himself, like this wasn’t the easy stuff. A warning, telling him to talk before Tachihara bring out the actual torture equipment.
When the man didn’t start talking, he dug the blade in a little deeper for the next cut. There wasn’t much of a reaction to that either, so he grabbed the man’s hand. Confusion was visible on his face, until small cuts were carefully made to each finger.
Small as paper cuts, and in the most uncomfortable places. Under nails, along knuckles, on the creases of his hand. All of the places it would be felt the most, then he walked back over to the table with all the items on it. Grabbing disinfectant, rubbing alcohol specifically.
The man’s face was the perfect picture of pain as his hand was doused in it, but he didn’t talk. Seeing as the slow, and rather painful method wasn’t working, he switched things up, going to get the pliers, and another knife. Tachihara was annoyed the man wasn’t talking, but he had asked his question, and would keep going until he received an answer.
Placing the pliers within the view of the man, he brought them down to the finger nails, and started plucking them, one by one. Screams echoed through the room, and down the hall, but he didn’t talk. Which was beginning to frustrate him, since this was taking up time he could be doing other things.
In his annoyance, he shot the man in the centre of his knee, “Just tell me already, and we can both be done here.”
He received a shake of the head, telling him he wouldn’t be getting told soon. Tachihara grit his teeth, and pressed the knife to the man’s arm again, laying it flat to the skin, and then tilting it down. Slicing the skin right off his forearm, and making him let out another blood curdling scream. For extra, to show his frustration at the man not talking, he tapped the sharp side of the knife into the exposed muscles.
Well aware of how excessive it was, he continued skinning him alive. Not minding the blood spilling out, and dripping onto the floor. Through broken sobs, he heard the man start to speak.
“In the woods, in an old storage building the port mafia abandoned years ago. That’s where your supplies are,” the man sobbed out, wanting the torture to be over.
“Took you long enough to talk, but, now I’m annoyed, so, might as well keep going,” Tachihara knew it was cruel, and unnecessary, since he had his information.
Texting his superior who asked for the information, he then laid his phone to the side, and continued with the slow task of skinning the man alive. Cutting off the shirt and pants to get better access to larger portions of skin. Completely unaware that Gin had been sent down after his text was sent to put the man to rest.
He had managed to peel away the skin from both arms, and was working through the man’s chest when the door creaked open. Turning around in surprise, he saw his colleague staring at him. Their eyes were wide with shock, blood had soaked into Tachihara’s clothes, and he had slices of flesh beside him on the floor.
Breaking their rule of not talking, Gin asked, “What are you doing? The man already talked?”
He didn’t answer, knowing he didn’t know what to say, blade still slicing upwards, and through skin. Letting more blood escape the man’s body, until a hand meets his face. The blade clatters onto the floor, while he reaches up to touch his face, where Gin had just slapped him.
“This is just unnecessary, you shouldn’t keep torturing someone after you’re done,” they were shouting, before reaching down to take Tachihara’s gun.
Putting a bullet in the head of the man, so he wouldn’t continue to feel the pain that was inflicted upon him. There were many unsaid words, as Gin turned around and stormed out of the room, gun still in hand. Having resisted shooting Tachihara too.
He stayed sat on the floor by the body, starting to realize what he’d done. Looking down at his blood covered hands, he knew he’d gone too far. Silently wondering to himself if he was still worthy of being in the Hunting Dogs, after doing something even a criminal in the mafia wouldn’t.
Tachihara was aware the Hunting Dogs tortured criminals, but the man he had just tortured only stole from criminals. What he was going to do with the weapons, he didn’t know. But, at the moment he began his continued torture, the man hadn’t done anything beyond theft.
It was inexcusable, and it brought a question with it that he didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t know if he was still a good person, and wondered if people knew, would they call him the same names as Jouno. They both had tortured someone when they didn’t need to for their own enjoyment.
Was he inhuman too?