Work Text:
“No.”
“Jouno.”
“It’s hideous.”
“You can’t even see it!”
“I don’t have to see it to know how atrocious it is. I can feel the uneven stitching, and I know our commander has never knit anything before this.”
“Are you implying the Commander’s work is ugly?!”
“I’m not implying it. I’m directly stating it.”
Tecchou sighed. Though he couldn’t approve of his partner’s trouble-making ways, the other man did have a point.
The sweater he and Teruko were arguing about was an obnoxiously bright shade of red. It had a white trim that would’ve been charming if it wasn’t severely lopsided. And speaking of lopsided, the sleeves were two completely different lengths.
But well…
“At least it seems to be roughly your size. It’s rude to refuse a gift.”
Tecchou’s own sweater was about two sizes too small. It was also an ugly shade of brown with an abstract impression of a reindeer’s face. It seemed a bit impractical for a garment meant to provide warmth to leave such a large patch of his stomach exposed, but unlike Jouno, Tecchou understood the basic idea of respect.
“It’s also rude to gift someone such an atrocity.”
“He worked hard on it!” Teruko growled, lunging at the blind man.
Sighing once again, Tecchou turned back to the cookies he was placing on the table. They were a bit lumpier than he would’ve liked, but it seemed like the corn and mustard didn’t bake very well into the batter.
Perhaps if he were to add milk or water? Though those weren’t exactly the same color as the egg yolk and other ingredients.
While he was pondering this, a sharp ringing echoed throughout the room.
Tecchou glanced over at the phone. Teruko was too busy trying to force a sweater over Jouno’s head, and Jouno himself likely didn’t care enough to answer it. Naturally, that left him.
The first thing he heard upon answering the call was a loud cackling.
“Um…hello?”
“Oh, so now you choose to answer, you stupid fish face,” an unknown voice yelled over the line. “Yeah, no. It’s fine. Just…just leave me for years and never respond and then…”
The voice trailed off into hiccups.
“I swear, I’m gonna kill you one day.”
He sounded…almost sad? Tecchou wasn’t the best at reading emotions, if he was being honest.
“May I ask why? And who I am speaking to?”
There was another bitter laugh. “You don’t recognize your own partner’s voice?”
Tecchou blinked, glancing over to where Jouno was practically hissing like a cat as his arms were shoved through the uneven sweater sleeves.
“My…partner?” They must have been confused.
“You are not Jouno,” he supplied helpfully.
“Jouno? Who the hell is-”
There was a shuffling noise and what sounded like a large…explosive?”
After a few unintelligible words and what sounded like a bit of fighting, a familiar voice came over the phone.
“Shit. What the hell? Chuuya must’ve grabbed my phone by accident. I knew we shouldn’t have let Kaiji make the eggnog.”
“Tachihara? Aren’t you with-”
Teruko perked up at that, abandoning her attempts to- oh no, had she tried to tie Jouno’s sweater into a straitjacket?
“Tachihara is calling?”
She gleefully dove for the phone, forcing Tecchou to dodge or fall victim to her usual gremlin behaviors.
“Tachihara!” Teruko exclaimed excitedly, flipping the phone onto speaker mode. “Are you coming home for Christmas?”
“Home? Tachihara, you didn’t tell us you had plans. We wouldn’t have kept you if you needed to leave,” an older, raspier voice called.
“H-hey! Mind your business, Gramps!”
“Are you Tachihara’s family?” A new voice, this one feminine, squealed into the phone.
“Higuchi!”
Tecchou bit back a smile.
“Do you hate him?” Another new voice, quiet and almost timid.
Teruko growled. Again. “What the hell kinda question is that?!”
Tecchou frowned. While he wasn’t as close to Tachihara as Jouno or Teruko, he was still aware of the…circumstances surrounding his former home life. To be compared to them…
“Well, only someone who hates him could give him such a hideous gift.”
“At least someone has common sense,” Jouno grumbled as he walked over, still detangling his own hideous gift.
“It’s not…that bad…” Tachihara tried.
“Ha! It’s worse than the Weretiger’s bangs!” The first voice, Chuuya, from what Tachihara had said, yelled. Loudly.
Jouno grunted, rubbing his ears. “Can’t you Mafia mutts keep it down?”
“Oi! Who’re you callin’ a mutt?! I’ll kick your ass!”
Jouno grinned, something that was never a good sign. “I’d like to see you try.”
Tecchou tilted his head, confused by the remark.
“Metaphorically, idiot,” Teruko added, whacking him.
Ah. That made more sense.
“Chuuya, please-”
There was what sounded like another explosion. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with these people?!
“Hahahahaha! Let this eggnog be blessed with the fruit of pure human ingenuity! The most precious of citruses, the beautiful and worthy Lemon!”
From the corner of his eye, Tecchou could see Jouno facepalming, a sentiment he agreed with. Lemons are eggnog were, quite clearly, not the same color.
“Please don’t,” Jouno mumbled.
Teruko smiled widely, rubbing her hands together and letting out a sharp laugh.
“Lemons are yellow though,” Tecchou stated matter-of-factly.
There was a pause from the other end of the line.
“Oh no…”
“Tachihara! Give me your cellular device!”
“What?! No!”
“Tachihara…”
“He’s gonna blow it up!”
“I’m more concerned he’s gonna blow all of us up!”
“I’m not giving it to him!”
“Pleaseeee? I just want to make your family understand the picture of sheer genius that is the Lemon!”
“NO!”
“...I think this is our cue to leave.”
“Hey! Don’t just hang up on us! This is important! This is-”
“Kaiji, watch out for-”
There was a third explosion, louder than the others, and the line went dead.
“Well,” Jouno began after a brief moment of silence. “I suppose that means Tachihara’s gift should be a new phone. It’s a shame though.”
Tecchou glanced at him. He had to admit, it was hard to take him seriously in his…current attire.
“I was hoping I’d be able to savor the sounds of their suffering a bit more- OW! Watch where you’re pointing that stupid sword of yours!”
Tecchou smiled innocently, sheathing his sword. “You need to correct that bad habit of yours.”
“You wanna see bad?! I’ll show you bad, you- grrr, I hope you die!”
With the sounds of Tecchou and Jouno arguing, Teruko cackling, and Tachihara’s inevitable horror when he returned to the base, this time of year was always the most lively.
Fukuchi smiled sadly from where he was hiding. For all their flaws, the Hunting Dogs were a family.
But, of course, all good things must eventually end.
He just hoped that after his betrayal and inevitable death, the four of them would be able to pick up the pieces and live for themselves.
—
BONUS:
“Um…commander?”
Fukuchi lifted his head groggily, watching as a blurry figure slipped into the room. Or…was that two figures?
Perhaps he had indulged a bit too much in the festivities.
He groaned, wiping his eyes and squinting.
The young man looked ridiculous, decked in an army green sweater that was at least two sizes too big on him. The baggy sleeves were rolled up, but that did nothing to help the awful rest of it. The front had what was supposed to be the Hunting Dogs in gingerbread form, but really looked more like a bunch of fruity blobs.
“Tachihara.”
The young man stood up straighter, face flushing red as one of the too-long sleeves slid down, making him look more like a lost kid than a soldier.
The commander barked out a laugh.
“That sweater is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen! Where did you find such a thing?”
“Uh…sir?”
“Hm?”
“...you were the one who made it.”
Oh. Right.
Well.
Shit.